Poison Fairytales
by The Brat Prince
Summary: Sequel to Giddy Brew. Ten years after the old crowd leave Hogwarts, Casey finds himself with a teaching job at the Willowcrest Academy of Defensive and Offensive Magic. AKA, Auror School. Chapter 9 is finally, finally, finally up.
1. The Water Asked Me For A Kiss

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter One: The Water Asked Me For A Kiss…_

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Abra Cadabra, they're all alive again! And this is true, for I am the god of Giddy Brew. Jeffy told me to write this.

* * *

"Damnit, why do I find guys wearing ripped jeans so drop dead sexy?" Harper Valente demanded of no one in particular.

"I think you're touched in the head, personally. And don't tell me you find all guys in ripped jeans to be hot," Harper's newest friend, Avarick Tyler drawled.

"No, I suppose not. The ones in bands…the ones with the muscular chests and the skinny waists," Harper admitted, "And I'm a sucker for tattoos, lately."

"Ah, so I take that you've seen Merlin today?" Avarick raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

Harper blushed, "Well. Yeah."

"I knew it," punching her fist into her hand triumphantly, Avarick crowed, "I can read you like an open book."

"Speaking of books," a quiet voice piped in, "Can you two keep it down? I'm trying to study."

Both girls glanced up in surprise at the girl seated cross legged on the floor across from them. She had long, wispy hair the color of moonlight and dark, dangerous black eyes. Defensively, Harper exclaimed, "Aw, Simone! We've only been here three days. What is there to study?"

"If you'd have paid attention in class," Simone's eyes flashed angrily, "You would know that."

Harper and Avarick exchanged cross looks. They were the latest additions to Willowcrest Manor, along with eight other students, including Simone. Of those eight students, neither girl could understand how they'd been saddled with Miss Prissy Platinum Haired Bitch for a roommate. The other two girls in the group had gotten a room to themselves. Why had they gotten stuck in a triple?

Willowcrest was…well, it sure wasn't Hogwarts.

Their first day there, the principal had regaled them with a speech that probably described Willowcrest better than either girl could.

"You know why howlers are called howlers? No, it's not just because they're loud and potentially embarrassing if opened in public," the forty something old man had paused here, chuckling at himself, "There was a man, the legends say, with a booming voice. Eventually, he ended up working with the ministry post; he helped them establish the current owl system. The lovely crimson red letters called Howlers came to exist as his brain child, a by product of the initial system. However, Thaddeus Howler did something much greater than that. He liked to found things, you see. Thaddeus Howler was the first and only great founder of this place, the Willowcrest Academy of Defensive and Offensive Magic. More fondly called Auror School."

Willowcrest was only a three year establishment. Solely the best and the brightest were accepted, and even then the top two or three, if any at all, would make it past the rigorous schooling and be allowed to work at the ministry of magic.

Harper Valente had worked her witchy butt off to get here. Hell if she would let Miss Simone Van Rennselaer screw up her chances at what she'd dreamed of becoming ever since she'd first found out there was a Hogwarts. Primly, Simone returned to studying, surprised that Harper hadn't come back with some immature retort.

"We have class in a few minutes," Avarick glanced at Harper's outfit. Technically, Willowcrest required all its students to wear a uniform. The uniform consisted of a simple black and white skirt and gray sweater set for girls, black and white pants and sweater set for boys, plus black and white patterned robes. Most of the students out right refused to wear it, and oddly enough, the teachers were okay with that.

Some of the students at Willowcrest had come from other wizarding schools, such as Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, or Shimmercobble out in America. Most of them were fresh out of Hogwarts, and many of the newest students still felt allegiance to their old houses. Avarick had been a Gryffindor, and to show it off she wore a red and gold pleated skirt with a mostly unbuttoned white collared shirt. Harper envied her new friends immense bust line, peachy complexion, and her soft, silky veil of honey colored hair. Today, Avarick had tied her hair back in two long pigtails. She looked like a school girl gone bad, which, as far as Harper could tell was pretty close to the truth.

Harper had never known Avarick personally when she was in Hogwarts. She'd been a Ravenclaw, leaning towards the antisocial side when it came to other houses. Harper had high, taut cheekbones and olive colored skin that was a nice shade of brown from her summer hols. She often felt that all her limbs were much too long, like a giant spider. She had a mole under her left eye that she absolutely despised. While in Hogwarts she'd worn her hair in thick black dreadlocks, but now her much shorter tresses resided in a loose ponytail. She wore a black t-shirt that read 'Drama' in bold white lettering across the chest and had different shaped white arrows pointing all around the shirt. One even wrapped around her back and came up between her shoulder blades. She also wore faded blue jeans, using her old Ravenclaw tie as a belt. She was taller than both Avarick and Simone by at least three inches. Speaking of Simone, the blonde had come straight from Beauxbatons, which might have been one of the reasons Harper and Avarick found her so distasteful.

"Which class do we have today?"

"Muggle relations," Avarick rolled her eyes, mouthing 'stupid' to her friend. She didn't say it out loud for fear Simone would start to lecture them on the importance of the class.

The classrooms were in the basement of the old mansion. Altogether the place was three stories tall, excluding the basement. The three floors comfortably fit the entire school's thirty five students that had made it through Willowcrest's practical and written entrance exams. Of all three years of students, it was said that about three might become true aurors.

Simone took a seat right up front, but Avarick and Harper made their way carefully to the back of the class. Harper liked the desks, which were old white oak with intricately carved legs. Three boys were chatting animatedly in front of them.

One, a brunette with dark gray eyes was saying, "Man, why do we need to relate to muggles? We're going to be dark wizard catchers, not muggle babysitters."

"I'm not sure," another boy said, and she recognized him to be Merlin Pembroke, the boy in the ripped jeans that she thought was too bloody sexy. He had short blonde hair and warm chocolate colored eyes.

Avarick nudged Harper, pointing to the two boys sitting to their right, exchanging worried looks. Harper knew them well; they had been in Ravenclaw with her. The twins' names were Chauncey and Conrad Hargrove. Both stood at six foot three, had pale skin, and long red hair streaked gold like autumn leaves. The only way Harper could tell them apart was that Conrad had dark blue eyes and his hair back in a ponytail while Chauncey wore his loose, falling into his much lighter eyes. It was like trying to tell the difference between the ocean and the sky when night was falling too quickly.

Avarick demanded, "What's with them?"

"Beats me," Harper shrugged, leafing through the pages of her text. This class didn't look to be all that interesting.

She changed her mind when the teacher stepped inside. He was definitely attractive. Barely thirty, with an aristocratic face and dreamy blue eyes, he was tall and intelligent looking. He had bright red hair arranged in carefully crafted spikes, broad shoulders, and wiry muscles. Unlike most of the teachers, he wasn't dressed in robes but in a black muggle suit that fit in all the right places. A pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of the twins, both of whom buried their heads in their arms, turning red.

The teacher smirked charismatically, "Before I start, I'd like to give everyone in the class permission to give those two hell."

The twins both raised their heads indignantly and chorused, "You can't single us out."

"I'm the professor. I can do whatever I want," he said calmly. Harper noticed a long, jagged scar running along his neck as he turned, "I'm Casey Hargrove."

"Our big brother," the twins moaned bitterly, "Why couldn't you be cool, like Cerulean?"

"I make more money than Cerulean," Casey objected.

"But he gets more girls," Conrad rejoined, and Harper noticed that with his deep blue eyes and strong jaw he'd be the spitting image of the professor when he got older.

"And he has better hair," Chauncey added.

"I don't think its girls Cer is interested in," Casey snorted, and then realized he didn't look very professional, "Now. Muggle relations. I doubt you think that this is an interesting topic. After all, being an auror is all about being badass, right?"

The class gave an appreciative chuckle. Casey smiled, "I know it's what you all think. It's what I thought when I came here. I sat in that seat," he pointed to the brunette boy's chair, "And made fun of the teacher when his back was turned. However, I've been an auror for six years, and was apprenticed here two before that. Oddly enough, we deal with more muggle related problems than dark wizard ones."

Merlin ran a hand through his thick blonde hair and raised hi hand, "Sir, what made you want to be an auror in the first place?"

A dark look crossed Casey's face, "Dark wizards killed someone very dear to me. Three someones, actually. I always forget Elanore- they weren't after her, you see, she was a pureblood. And I didn't see Frank…"

The class was obviously waiting for him to continue, and he sighed, "When I was seventeen, three of my closest friends were muggle born. We looked too closely into things better left alone. That's why we- they were singled out. My friends, that is. They accidentally killed one of the pureblooded ones when she tried to protect Bobby…"

A girl with dark hair cut like a pixy that Harper vaguely recalled as a Slytherin spoke out, "Do you mean Bobby Stone, the writer?"

"Yes," Casey laughed, "I always forget that he's the famous one now."

Slightly chastened by Casey's sad story, Conrad said, "When have you been famous?"

"I was in a pretty popular band when I was younger," Casey grinned.

"Sure, you used to rock out the show," Chauncey mocked his older brother.

Casey shrugged modestly, "I played guitar. I always have been good with my hands."

"I bet," Avarick whispered.

A slight boy sitting near the front said in a snotty voice, "You know, you're not very professional for a teacher."

Brightening, Casey said gleefully, "You think? I was worried I'd come off as old and stodgy like the other teachers. I'm only twenty seven, you know."

Harper thought back to the other three teachers she'd met. With the exception of the stout, pompous Mr. Buckland, who taught potions, she'd yet to meet a stuffy teacher here. Her charms teacher had been curvy and seductive, and surprisingly volatile when anyone made a mistake. The defense and offense professor had been a rolling ball of energy. She'd yet to go through a transfiguration class (here they called it Advanced Alchemy), but she doubted the only remaining professor would be boring.

"Anyway," Casey was proclaiming, "You should have fun while you're here. Willowcrest is hard, yes, but this isn't Hogwarts. We're all adults here; none of the professors are your keepers. I'd like to make this class as exciting as possible."

The rest of the class was pretty tame, and despite Casey's claims, it was difficult to make practical telephone usage exciting. Well, Avarick and the rest of the purebloods seemed to be interested. Harper spent the rest of the class examining her nails.

Out of her class, there was only one other muggle born. Most of the muggle born students at Hogwarts liked the idea of becoming an auror, but weren't willing to go through the three years of extra schooling to pursue a job that they may or may not get, and if they were to get might potentially end their lives. Harper had jumped at the chance to be in school for longer. She hadn't had any idea what she wanted to do with her life, as long as she didn't have to go home. Her dad was a drunk who was absent more often than not. Her mom worked over time at a hospital. She didn't know anyone in her neighborhood, and her only muggle friend lived hours away. When she went home for the summer, the local kids called her the witch girl with the freaky eyes.

After Casey let them out of muggle relations, the students were herded across the hall, for their first ever Advanced Alchemy class. Casey had warned them that they might find the next professor to be slightly scary, but he refused to explain how. Instead he'd patted each of the twins on the head and grinned enigmatically.

The professor was seated at a desk near the front of the class, feet on top of it, tapping his fingers to a rhythmic beat. He was lanky, but muscular. His legs were incredibly long. He had shaggy brown hair and honest blue eyes.

"Welcome, welcome. I'm Noah Weslen, you can all call me Noah, or Wes, if you prefer. I'll be teaching you Advanced Alchemy, or transfiguration. It's all the same to me."

"He's cute too," Avarick whispered to Harper. Unfortunately they were in the front row, and Noah saw her mouth moving.

"Girls, no talking. We're here to prevent nightfall over all humanity, muggle and wizard alike," Noah said seriously, "We all want to stay alive to see daybreak. That means you pay attention in my class, or you get out."

Properly chastised, Avarick mumbled an apology.

"Now, I know you can all do basic transfiguration. I know many of you have the skill to turn yourself into half an animal at will. You can turn yourself into shadow. These are just a few of the skills taught at the highest level of all the wizarding schools. If anyone is unsure that they have the skill required to do any of these tricks, see me after class."

"There are three principals that an auror has to learn. Stealth, potency, and agility. This year, we're going to learn the more advanced aspects of transfiguration, pertaining to stealth. Each and every one of you will complete the curriculum if it kills you. If you can't turn yourself invisible, we will have extra lessons. If you have difficulty becoming a registered animagus, we will practice until you get it right."

"Excuse me sir, did you say animagus? I didn't realize that this course required one to become animagi," petite, perfect Simone said softly, a look of distaste on her face.

"Yes. Every teacher here is animagi."

"Whoa, what's Professor Dusserre turn into?" Merlin asked lewdly. Harper couldn't imagine sultry Audra Dusserre becoming any type of animal.

"A lynx," Noah said with narrowed eyes.

"I would have thought she'd be a fox," Chauncey joked with a perverted smile.

"Professor, what do you turn into?"

Noah smiled serenely, "A grizzly bear. Absolutely useless for stealth projects. It's always good when you need an extra hand or body heat though. I prefer it to being a butterfly, like Professor Chase."

"I wonder what our brother is," half the class overheard Conrad murmur to Chauncey.

"You ask him. I'm not going to speak to the slimy git for a week," Chauncey muttered back.

"Boys," Noah said reprovingly, "We're going to jump right into the practical theory of the process of animagi transformations. A little boring, I know, but the head honcho's tell me I'm not allowed to let you try it till you know the rules."

"Kind of like having to know the rules to break them," Merlin reasoned.

"No, more like not ever breaking the rules. Ever," Noah frowned.

"He's kind of anal," Avarick whispered to Harper, "steamy, but anal."

After class, the students were herded out for lunch. They could eat in the small dining room in Willowcrest, or head out to the local town.

"Do you reckon we should head out? I was really pining for Indian food, but it looks pretty nasty," Avarick said doubtfully.

"They made umbrellas for a reason," Harper retorted.

"True. I'll go grab one from the room," Avarick smiled and darted up the stairs.

"Hey. Hey you, girl!"

Harper blinked and spun around, blue-green eyes meeting dark gray, "Hey, I'm Ben."

"Ah," she recognized the brunette boy the twins had been talking to in muggle relations, "I'm Harper Valente."

"Benvolio, are you hitting on the Harpy?" Chauncey came up behind her, leaning an elbow on her shoulder.

Harper pushed it off, "I-"

Conrad came up behind Ben, "Ah, Benvolio Asher, meet Harper Valente; beautiful, but deadly."

"She turned down our advances."

"All of them."

"Quite often, actually."

"It was cruel."

"We're both so bitter," Chauncey agreed with his brother.

"We were already introduced," Harper told the twins. Then she raised an eyebrow at Ben, "Benvolio?"

"My parents liked Shakespeare," the brunette shrugged sheepishly.

"No shame in that," Conrad muttered.

"Hey, Harper, are you going to lunch?" Chauncey inquired, "In the village?"

"Ah, Avarick and I are," the dark haired girl admitted.

"Can we come?" Conrad grinned, "Merlin stayed after with Professor Weslen for extra help, and that Phinny dude is a great berk. The other three girls in our class are sopping wet. No offense to your roommate…"

"Simone's evil," Harper said flatly.

"Alrighty then," Chauncey cheered, "Ben, you want to come?"

"I didn't invite any of you," Harper frowned, "We're going for Indian food."

"I love Indian," Chauncey smiled, "Have you seen the girls they have in India? Gorgeous."

"Mate, you're a bit spun in the head," Ben shook his head, "Is it really okay if we come?"

"I guess. Avarick thinks you're all gods, so she won't mind," Harper said noncommittally.

Avarick lightly smacked her friend, having returned with two simple black umbrellas, "Don't tell them that."

Calmly, the blonde then turned to the boys and said, "Avarick Tyler. Charmed, I'm sure."

"We sure are," both twins chorused and stepped up to kiss the hand she'd extended. Benvolio nodded in greeting.

Harper frowned, "You didn't kiss my hand."

"Shut it, Valente, we've forgotten you already in the face of this gorgeous specimen," Chauncey said smoothly. Avarick giggled, delighted.

* * *

While Avarick was making nice with Benvolio and Chauncey, Conrad pulled Harper aside, "Hey, is it really okay?"

"I told Ben it was. Don't you listen?" Harper said, trying not to sound irritated.

"It doesn't sound like it's okay," he retorted.

"It is."

"Harper, I missed you," Conrad smiled weakly, "I don't want to fight."

"Neither do I," Harper admitted, "Come on. I promise it's okay."

Chauncey opted to huddle beneath one umbrella with Avarick. The shorter girl had difficulty keeping the umbrella from bumping the top of his head, but he didn't volunteer to hold it for her until his brother elbowed him in the side. Conrad felt more comfortable walking in the rain, but Harper forced him to get beneath her umbrella with Benvolio. The mud on the path stuck to the soles of their shoes. It was slow going.

When they reached the town, which was more a village than a town, and more farmland than village, everyone was glad to be out of the constant downpour. The town was barely bigger than the Willowcrest grounds. In the dreary haze of rain, the five passed brightly lit storefronts. The street lamps tried to lend some cheer to the thick veil of water, but they were miserably failing. Near the end of a cobblestone alley was Nataraja. Harper and Avarick had found this place their first day at Willowcrest, and befriended the hostess for discounts.

"Hi, Shilpa," Avarick greeted a small girl with dark hair and almond eyes. Shilpa MacDougal had been ecstatic to see girls her age in town. Half Indian, a quarter Japanese, and a quarter Scottish, Shilpa was one of the most beautiful girls any of them had ever seen. Her parents owned Nataraja, and she let both girls eat at half price if they promised to frequent the place at least once a week.

"Merlin, Harper. You didn't tell me there'd be so many babes on this expedition," Chauncey eyed Shilpa with lust in his eyes. Avarick frowned; all the attention he'd been giving her was lost.

"Sharpay, is it?" the redhead extended his hand to Shilpa, who was looking rather sexy in a black baby doll dress and dangly golden star earrings. She was smart enough to roll her eyes and refuse it.

"Shilpa," she said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"We don't know him," Harper said calmly.

"Easy for you to pretend that," Conrad muttered indignantly, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Can we have the booth in the corner?" Avarick wondered.

Shilpa smiled, "Sure!"

Once they were seated with menus, Harper realized that Ben had been pretty quiet the entire trip down the hill. Now he was staring vacantly at the perfect pink rose on the table.

"So what's your story?"

"Ah, me?" Ben looked startled.

"No, the rose," Harper grinned cheekily, "Yes, you. I never saw you around Hogwarts, and you don't sound French, Slavic, or American."

"…I was home schooled."

"They do that?" Avarick asked, shocked.

"Sure," Conrad piped up, "We're all home schooled till we go to Hogwarts, right? Some parents are just a little too protective to ever stop."

"Like mine," Ben muttered solemnly, "I practically had to threaten suicide to have them let me come here."

"You're a momma's boy?"

"No," Ben said stiffly, "I'm just sheltered."

"Momma's boy," Avarick echoed.

"His mom's dead, but good show," Chauncey applauded.

Darkly, Harper muttered, "You're an arse, Chaunce."

"Is she? Oh, I'm so sorry!" Avarick exclaimed.

"It's okay. The reason my dad didn't want me to leave was to look after my little sister."

"You have a sister?" Conrad perked up.

"Is she hot?" Chauncey inquired.

Ignoring Chauncey, Ben turned to Conrad and said softly, "Rosalind. She's sixteen."

"That's adorable. My big brother doesn't get that look in his eyes when he talks about me," Avarick said accusingly.

"That's because he doesn't like you," Harper joked.

"Aw, that's mean," Avarick pouted, but she cheered up when the waiter came to take their order.

* * *

"How was it?"

"How was what?"

"You're first day teaching. Don't get fresh with me, Hargrove," Noah Weslen growled, pounding his fist against the desk.

Casey sighed, "It was fine. My brothers are attending. Mum failed to mention that."

"Ah, the redheaded twins. I thought I saw a family resemblance. Talkative little buggers."

"I suppose. I actually don't know them that well. We're almost ten years apart in age. They were about nine when I was in sixth year. It was fun teasing them though. When did we get old, d'you reckon?"

"Speak for yourself," Noah said gruffly.

"You know, I liked you much better when you were flamboyant and obnoxious."

"I liked you much better when you were an asshole," Noah smiled cheekily, a bit of his old self shining through, "Oh wait, you still are."

"They brought it up."

"What?"

"They brought it up. What happened. They asked me why I became an auror."

"Why did you?" Noah asked casually.

"You have to ask? Sixth year?"

"Seventh year for me, Hargrove."

"Prue, Elanore, and Frank," Casey stated simply, "I still can't believe they're gone. It's been ten fucking years, and I still can't believe it."

"Neither can I," Noah said softly.

Casey wondered aloud, "Do you miss him?"

"Do you miss her?" Noah countered.

"Prue was…" Casey shook his head sadly.

"Frank was…" Noah did the same, "Do you have a cigarette?"

"They made me promise not to bring them into the school. Said it'd encourage the students."

Noah stared at the redhead blankly.

"Hold on a sec," Casey muttered, digging under his desk. He pulled out a pack, "I thought you didn't go in for this muggle crap."

"Yeah well. You brought up a sore subject," Noah lit the cigarette with a flick of his wand.

Casey studied the slow burn of white paper before lighting his own cigarette, "Sorry mate."

"This doesn't make us friends, you understand."

"Mm."

"It's just that Wilhelm's a bastard, Audra's a slut with boundary issues, and I really can't follow what Chalcedony says," Noah breathed, "It's refreshing to have someone who can carry on a civil conversation."

"What about the band?"

"No offense, but since your brother joined up, Polaris and Orpheus have been to busy to dick around with me. Bastards."

"Cerulean's like that," Casey breathed, "A bit of a Nazi, actually."

"Right. So what do you think of the rest of the kids? They seem different than the other years; not that you would know that," Noah said thoughtfully.

"They seem nice," Casey shrugged indifferently.

"Did you see the blonde? Pembroke? I would shag him in a minute."

"Urgh. Too much information, Weslen."

"There wasn't a single girl in that class you were interested in? Please, please don't tell me you're interested in one of the other teachers. Charming Audra, perhaps?" Noah looked slightly offended at the thought.

Casey sighed and took a deep drag of his cigarette, "No. She seems pretty interested in me. Dragged me into a broom closet the other day. She's pretty strong."

"Hargrove," Noah took a deep breath, "It wouldn't kill you to pick a pretty girl and settle down."

"Hey. I've dated girls. I just haven't found the right one," Casey replied defensively, "Anyway, what are you, my brother?"

"Nah, if I was one of your brothers, you wouldn't listen to me. I remember you ten years ago. Running around, flipping off the entire world."

Casey smiled in remembrance, and Noah continued, "It was just a suggestion. Hoo boy, she really screwed you up good. This is why I date guys."

"I don't see you settling down," Casey said casually.

"Yeah, well. All the guys you meet in our line of work are evil, straight, or nerdy."

"Go for the nerdy ones."

"Easy for you to say," Noah sighed, "They're just not Frank."

"I know what you mean," Casey laughed without any humor, "I know exactly what you mean."

"The end is nigh, Hargrove," Noah shook his head, "At least for our love lives. Has been since seventh year."

"Sixth," Casey corrected, and there really wasn't anything left to say.

* * *

The next day, Avarick was bouncing around their dorm room like crazy. Not even Simone's nasty attitude could get her to stop, and the French girl had left for the small library in town to study up before class. Harper was only half paying attention to her roommate, the rest of her focused on the music floating out of her earphones. She only had one in her ear, and it wasn't nearly enough to drown out the blonde's hyper ranting. Still, it was nice that unlike Hogwarts, Willowcrest was not spelled against muggle inventions.

"I can't believe we have such cute friends!" Avarick squealed, "I mean we really hit the payload here."

"It's not like we have much choice. There are only ten of us. Have you noticed, the older kids won't even acknowledge us?" Harper asked indignantly.

"We don't see them that often," Avarick said as way of excusing it. It was true; the older kids had all their classes on the second and third floors, as well as their dorms. Mostly they only saw them during lunch and dinner, but they rarely spoke to their newest classmates.

"Hey Harper?"

"Mmm," the dark haired girl acknowledged.

"What's the deal with you and Conrad? He was the non-perverted one, right? I keep getting the two mixed up," Avarick said thoughtfully.

"It's Conrad," Harper smiled slightly. This was the first time she'd seen Avarick so scatter brained since they'd been introduced. It was obvious she hadn't had many boys as friends back at Hogwarts.

Avarick's eyes lit up, "Yeah, Conrad. What's the deal between you two?"

"We used to go out," Harper replied simply.

"Wait, go out as in, hot and heavy making out for a week or two, or as in long term relationship lovey dovey stuff?"

Since she seemed genuinely curious, Harper removed her other earphone, "You really want to know?"

"I really, really, really want to know. Ooh, is it scandalous?"

Harper rolled her eyes, "Not at all. We became best friends first year. We were inseparable for a while. Fourth year we both got involved with other people, but then we realized we weren't really happy without each other. We were together through fifth, sixth, and seventh year."

Entranced, Avarick asked, "What happened?"

"Geez," Harper pushed back her bangs, "I sound like a bad romance novel. Conrad got accepted to Willowcrest. I didn't. Well, I did, but I was on the waiting list. Things just fell apart. He cheated on me."

"That jerk!" Avarick exclaimed.

"No, no," Harper said fondly, "I cheated on him too."

"You bitch."

"Yeah," she bit her lip, "I suppose. At the time, I think I wanted to get back at him. For being smarter than me, maybe? For cheating, obviously. I don't know. My relationship with Conrad seemed too confusing. It was like…finding your soul mate, but not knowing what to do with him. Neither of us were ready to stick to one person."

"So you think Conrad is your soul mate?"

"No. Not at all. We loved each other, but neither of us was ready to be in love. We're young. We want to play around."

"Isn't that going to be awkward though? Being friends with him and dating other guys?" Avarick inquired.

"I don't know. I hope not, because I think I fancy Ben. Just a bit."

"That could be trouble," Avarick warned.

"I like trouble. Besides, I never planned on becoming friends with Conrad while here. I'm not going to let the fact that I am stop me from having fun," Harper winked.

When it came time for class, Harper and Avarick met the boys in front of the Charms classroom.

"What are you wearing?" Conrad demanded when he saw them.

Harper was wearing an oversized black sweater with silver diamonds patterned across the front and bright red ugg style ankle boots. And nothing else that was visible. She grinned, "Relax, I'm wearing shorts."

"Very short shorts," Avarick observed.

"And what's your excuse?" Chauncey eyed Avarick bawdily.

Avarick wore a bright red mini dress made of some sort of thin, clingy material. The hem barely touched her upper thighs. Her white sneakers made the outfit a little less dressy, but no less revealing.

"What's wrong with my dress?" Avarick demanded.

"It's a little skimpy. Not that I mind," Chauncey assured her.

Avarick reeled back her fist and punched him, dead on between the eyes.

"What the hell was that for?" Chauncey yelped, clutching his face.

Avarick shrugged, "You can't hit on me after you spent all of lunch yesterday hitting on Shilpa."

"You didn't have to hit me for it!"

"This girl's a bit off her rocker. I'd watch out; she might come after you with a kitchen knife while you sleep," Conrad leaned in and whispered confidentially.

Amused, Harper replied, "I'll be sure to watch my back."

Benvolio had watched the entire exchange with a slight smile.

"You just watch, she'll make him her bitch by the end of the year," Benvolio told Harper and Conrad.

"Aw, fuck you man," Chauncey retorted. Avarick had a small, evil smile on her face that assured the others what Ben said was true.

"You know, rather than that Indian place, we should all go to the pub in town. We'll get some beer and lunch. Sing songs, be jolly?" Avarick suggested.

"You don't want to hear Harper sing," Conrad winced.

"I was just about to say the same for you," the dark haired girl retorted.

"Who said we want to go to lunch with you, anyhow?" Chauncey demanded, still bitter about the bitch comment.

"You do," Avarick said evenly, "Or else."

Before Chauncey could ask 'or else what', Benvolio abruptly cut in, "Its time for class."

They'd only had two of Audra Dusserre's classes so far, but nobody wanted to be late. Professor Dusserre was the type of woman you'd expect to be carrying around a whip and wearing skin tight leather pants rather than teaching. She carried herself with the self assured manner of one that knew she reeked of sex appeal. She used her looks to her advantage. The whole of the male population of Willowcrest paid complete attention in her classes. Despite her pretty face, however, Audra was also a rather famous auror. She was well known in the streets of London as a dark wizard killer, rather than catcher. This persuaded the female half of the school to look up to her as well.

"Hello, class," she practically purred as she entered the room. Her face had just the right combination of features; if one had been any different, Audra would have turned out a homely woman. Her hair was a thick and luxurious mahogany color. Her eyes were wide and innocent, as blue as the sky. She had a deep, throaty voice that made most of the boys shift their trousers uncomfortably.

"Show off," Harper muttered. Avarick was inclined to agree. Audra Dusserre was the type of woman who made all the other women around her feel inadequate.

"Hate her," Avarick whispered.

"Hate her," Harper echoed.

"I think she's bloody fantastic," Chauncey murmured.

"He would," Harper rolled her eyes.

"Attention," Audra commanded, slamming a fist into the heavy wood of her desk, "For the remainder of this class, all eyes up front. Charms is not a subject to be taken lightly. Girls in the back, you with the funny hair- yes, you, and your little friend with the tiny breasts. Her hair's worse than yours."

Avarick was pointing to herself, and when she realized Professor Dusserre was indicating her, her face reddened. Harper frowned and felt the back of her head. She didn't think her hair was funny.

"I know back in Hogwarts or Beauxbatons," Audra placed the emphasis on 'batons' as though it was a dirty word, "Or even Durmstrang or Shimmercobble the use of charms, jinxes, hexes, and glamours was negligible."

"I wouldn't say that, Professor," the short haired ex-Slytherin girl said, "We were told to take all our studies very seriously."

"What is your name?" Audra asked with narrowed eyes.

"Eranthe. Eranthe Demontico," the girl replied, a slight flush apparent in her mocha complexion.

"Don't you presume to tell me how you were taught at Hogwarts. I was taught there myself," Audra said haughtily.

A girl in hot pants that looked to be patterned in brown suede, autumn red patches, and orange sand camouflage stood up, "Professor, can we continue with the lesson?"

Despite Audra's hot glare, the girl absently twirled a lock of auburn hair. How she managed to look bored in the face of the angry dominatrix type professor was beyond Harper and Avarick.

"Yes, Miss Carew," Audra sighed, "The practicality of charms is apparent in the field. Perhaps you shall glamour yourself to escape the enemy, perhaps you shall master a particularly vicious hex that shall aid you later on."

"Shall it?" the girl in the hot pants grumbled.

"It shall," Audra said icily.

"But Professor, why would we use a glamour when we could just transfigure ourselves?" the girl asked.

"It takes less energy to use a glamour," Audra frowned.

The girl gave a honey sweet smile, "What about a jinx or a hex? Wouldn't it be more effective to use the ones we've learned in defense than the minor housework spells?"

"You never know what you'll find useful," Audra said darkly, finally, as though it was the end of the discussion.

"Anyway," she started again, "spells are strong in a way that indicates you're seriousness. Yes, many aurors must make use of them in the chase to capture a dark wizard, however you all must keep in mind that there are threats that must be handled with more care."

"Like what?" Harper ventured, the courage of Miss Carew having caught.

"A muggle riot caused by an escaping wizard," Audra suggested, "A flunky under the imperious curse. In both of these situations your main objective would not be lasting damage, but to subdue. Depending on the events surrounding your problem, the means will be different. This is no longer school-girl or boy charms. This is active defensive and offensive magic."

While Professor Dusserre continued to speak, Chauncey nudged Avarick, "Hey, who's that girl sitting next to Merlin?"

He was referring to the auburn haired girl in the hot pants. Harper shook her head; she didn't know. Avarick however, had studied the attendance list very carefully before she headed to Willowcrest. In a conspiratorial tone, she replied, "That's Zillah Carew."

"Zillah Carew," Chauncey echoed, waiting for more information. When Avarick didn't provide any, he elbowed her expectantly.

"What? Oh, I want to pay attention to lessons. Do you like anything with legs?" Avarick demanded, irritated.

"As long as they have a nice cozy bosom where I can rest my head," Chauncey deadpanned.

"Fine. As far as I know, she was at Shimmercobble. She knows Merlin, but doesn't seem particularly fond of him. And she's British. Her parents sent her to Shimmercobble because they felt that Beauxbatons was too snooty and Hogwarts wasn't selective enough."

"I wasn't aware that Shimmercobble was all that selective either," Harper commented, listening in. Conrad also seemed to be listening closely. They would all have to get notes from Benvolio after class.

"It's not," Conrad gave his input, "I met a girl from there during the summer hols. We went to Aruba."

Ignoring the twinge of jealousy Avarick felt from her total lack of money, she continued, "Apparently Shimmercobble itself is not all that selective, but it's divided into five…specialized schools, I suppose. Almost like houses. One of the schools could rival Slytherin in their pure blood mania."

"The Truebloods," Benvolio said quietly, apparently listening after all.

"Truebloods…?" Harper asked, noticing the way Avarick stiffened beside her. Chauncey and Conrad didn't seem to know what he was on about either.

"She was a Trueblood," Benvolio continued.

"But how do you know?" Avarick murmured, staring intently at the back of Zillah's head, as though a mouth would grow from beneath the girl's mass of auburn curls.

Benvolio shifted, his crisp pin striped zoot suit pants, "She has the tattoos. On her shoulders."

Thinking that whatever this meant, pureblood wizards and witches really seemed to like tattoos, Harper realized that she couldn't see Zillah's arms. She was sitting directly behind the girl, so she leaned forward and hissed, "Hey. Hey, uh, Zillah, right?"

Coolly, the girl turned, giving all of them the perfect view of the black ink staining the soft peach skin of her shoulder, "What?"

"I dropped my quill," Harper said, even though she was holding the golden eagle quill directly in front of her cheek. Benvolio had already caught on, and tossed his to the floor while Zillah wasn't looking.

The girl glanced down skeptically, then reached to get it, exposing her left shoulder to them all, "Here."

When Zillah had turned back around, Harper returned Benvolio's swan feather quill and said, "I don't get it."

The tattoos on both shoulders had been words written vertically down the skin. The print was simple, and the meaning was completely lost on her. They'd looked like nonsense words.

"One means love, the other means hate. It's the mark of a Trueblood."

"I thought that was a legend," Avarick gasped.

They were all speaking in muted whispers, and Professor Dusserre's voice was so loud that Zillah couldn't seem to hear them. Even so, Benvolio lowered his voice, and they all leaned in close.

"Bugger it all. What in the seven hells is a Trueblood?" Chauncey demanded.

"You're rich, so you wouldn't know," Avarick replied.

"What does that have to do with it?"

"That's obvious- rich people join the neo-deatheaters if they want to join a hate group at all," Avarick snapped.

Harper raised an eyebrow. Since the fall of the great dark lord over twenty years ago, his minions, the death eaters, had evolved into something else entirely. At first they had been called the neo-deatheaters, but now the term was severely outdated. Now they were called the Dreadnaughts. Basically it was a club for too-haughty-for-thou pureblood rich kids. There was a guerilla warfare segment, but they'd never been caught. Their hate crimes were rare, but when they committed one, everyone noticed.

"The Truebloods are a gang?" Harper inquired.

Avarick and Benvolio nodded, troubled. Conrad and Chauncey were too busy pretending to be insulted about their wealthy status being mocked.

"Why would someone from a pureblood hate group want to be an auror?"

"Couldn't tell you," Avarick shrugged.

Class ended, and Audra Dusserre marched out of the classroom with a strict bark of, "Everyone's homework better have perfect handwriting. No sloppy papers will be accepted."

"Aw man, what's the homework?" Harper wailed.

All five hurried to potions with Professor Buckland. Wilhelm Buckland was an aggressive, middle aged man. He was balding, and had a slow way of talking while he lectured, yet still managed to be extremely loud. Despite his booming voice, he was hard to anger. The class passed without event. Even skinny, nasal Phinny Kleinberg (who'd graduated Durmstrang; how, no one knew) managed to keep quiet.

Weeks passed, and all the students became accustomed to the way Willowcrest worked. The only incident anyone could remember happening was Merlin Pembroke being called out of class because his brother had come to visit. Soon, Professor Weslen had announced that they would be taken on their first field trip to London.

Conrad, Chauncey, Benvolio, Harper, and Avarick became great friends. They spent most meals together, often going to visit Shilpa at Nataraja. Her father, Kavan, who was also the cook, came out to stopover while they ate. He gave them huge discounts, which Avarick and Harper appreciated.

It was after one such meal that Conrad hung back. He'd just overheard Harper invite Benvolio to one of the many school libraries that night. He'd agreed, and she'd giggled like a moron. It was quickly becoming a routine whenever she was around him. When she noticed the way his footsteps faltered, Harper excused herself from walking with the rest, "What's wrong?"

"Hey, Harpy?" Conrad asked, rather timidly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a thing for Ben?"

Harper immediately turned the exact shade of the tomatoes in her salad, "Now, what would make you think that?"

"You're blushing," Conrad observed lazily, "Besides, your IQ level goes down fifty points when you're around the guy you like. And I'm pretty sure it isn't me or Chauncey that's making you act like a giant wet sop."

"I have not," Harper exclaimed indignantly, "Been acting like a giant wet sop."

"Have too," Conrad informed her, "Besides, you haven't answered the question. Do you fancy him?"

"He- I- well- wait! This isn't something I should have to discuss with you!"

"I'm not your friend?" Conrad's expression turned into something resembling hurt.

"That's not what I mean. It's just…this is awkward, Con."

"I know," he nodded, "Why is that?"

"We used to be best friends," Harper offered sadly.

"Yeah."

"I know. Why don't we hang out sometime? Just the two of us? We'll…go to the cinema. Is there a cinema around here?" Harper panicked, she couldn't think of anything better to do.

However, Conrad lit up like a Christmas light, "A movie?"

"Uh, yes," Harper smiled weakly, "It's a terrible idea, and we could do something-"

"No! I mean, no," Conrad blushed, "It's a good idea. I've never seen a movie."

Sometimes Harper forgot since she was a muggle born in the midst of magic, but muggle things could seem magical to wizards.

"Wicked," Harper grinned, "So it's a date."

"But not a date," Conrad clarified.

"Right."

* * *

Two weeks later, Noah Weslen chose teams for the field trip. He would take five of the students to London, to pursue a wizard responsible for a string of petty vandalism they thought was connected to a larger string of murders. Wilhelm Buckland, a man he had little respect for, would take another group of five into the country to investigate a witch suspected of unleashing several gruesome, but non-fatal potions and spells.

"So who do you have?" Casey asked casually. They met regularly, one night a week. Willowcrest was so secluded that they had little else to do. Also, neither communicated regularly with friends or family.

"Ah, a Van Rennselaer," Noah started.

Casey grinned, "Ah, that's that cute little blonde."

Noah made a face, "She's French."

"So? French girls are cute," Casey shrugged, "I dated one back in school."

"I don't do French," Noah replied softly, "Or girls, for that matter."

"Who else?"

"Ah, a Hargrove!" Noah exclaimed.

"One of my brothers? Which one?"

"Conrad," Noah replied.

"Which one is that?" Casey joked.

"Mate, you'd best figure out quickly. I sense you'll have to do some serious bonding with them before they graduate."

"If they graduate," Casey said gravely. He remembered how hard Willowcrest could be. As it was, they were almost two months into school, and Noah had told him none had mastered their animagus transformations.

"I also have Valente, Carew, and Pembroke," Noah finished quickly.

"Ah, that's that feisty girl with the dark hair that hangs around my brothers," Casey recalled, "And the one with the funny tattoos. The guy's American."

Noah nodded, "That leaves Buckland with Demontico, Tyler, the other Hargrove, Asher, and Kleinberg."

"You've got a good group," Casey tried, but Noah wouldn't have it.

"They're all soft," he said, frustrated.

"We used to be like them."

"Did we?" he asked bitterly, "I don't remember."

"We did," Casey said firmly.

Despite what Noah felt was supposed to be support, he still felt like crap the next morning. The students' faces were much too bright for this early in the morning. Well, the Hargrove kid and his little friend seemed to be yawning and grumbling too often, but the rest of them were obnoxiously happy.

"I don't care if any of you like each other. I don't care if any of you hate each other. Miss Carew, I don't even care that you're in some stupid Trueblood gang and are refusing to get within a meter of Miss Valente. Yes, don't think I didn't notice that."

Zillah opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it. It was the first time any of them had seen the attitudinally challenged girl back down.

"We work together. We stick together. You're all big kids, I know. You all know your way around London. I don't care. If I lose any of you- consider yourself expelled," Noah said sternly.

When none of them raised any objections, he continued, "We will be apparating to the immediate vicinity of Saint Mungo's. Our perp was last seen in muggle clothes, sandy blonde hair, tall. He is responsible-we think- for at least five acts of vandalism to the muggle underground as well as other vehicles, two of which have resulted in the death of five muggles. Additionally, we feel he is associated with a chain of murders across London."

"How are we supposed to find him?" Zillah asked, a hint of sarcasm touching her voice.

"Use the instruments you've been given in class," Noah replied, "Namely knowledge."

"That was vague," he overheard Conrad tell Harper.

"If you can't figure it out, you don't belong here," Noah said hotly.

Minutes later, they had disapparated to the shopping district outside Saint Mungo's.

"The minor enforcement team has already narrowed down the location in which our suspect's been spotted," Noah said, smirking. He could visibly see half the tension leak out of his team, who had believed him about figuring it out on their own.

"Van Rennselaer and Carew, you two head down that street. If you see anyone matching the description, discretely stun them. The same goes for you, Pembroke and Valente, down that street. Either of you find anyone, send up red sparks with your wand. We'll be watching the sky."

Harper bid Conrad a reluctant goodbye and headed half-giddy after Merlin down a side alley. Simone and Zillah had already left. Conrad shifted awkwardly.

"I'm sure you're wondering what you're going to do," Noah muttered, almost to himself. He didn't seem to expect a response, and stood there as though pondering what exactly they could do for quite a bit. Conrad grew increasingly bored, and decided to provide an answer.

"Well, I was assuming that you were going to be my partner," Conrad said quietly, a hint of a mocking smile on his face.

"Boy, don't test me," Noah barked, thinking that he could have fun with this one.

However, Noah didn't get a chance to test that theory. Before he could even growl an order at Conrad, both noticed a flurry of red sparks lighting up the sky.

* * *

If Harper fell all over herself because of a teensy crush on Ben, her full blown attraction to Merlin made her practically incompetent. He looked so cute in his T-shirt that read boldly ' New York Fucking City'.

"Harper, right?" Merlin grinned as they left the group.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered a reply, face lighting up like the sun. He had such a cute American accent.

"Well, Harper, I'm Merlin Pembroke," he extended a hand, none too interested in the fact that they were supposed to be hunting rather than chatting.

"I know," she squeaked, staring at the hand as though he were offering her the plague. Or a sacred relic, but he couldn't tell the difference between her awed and terrified faces. Mildly insulted, he withdrew it.

"I suppose we should get on with it then," he frowned, trying to see anyone who matched their suspects description. He figured it wouldn't be completely prudent to look as though they were searching, and was about to suggest that they make use of a shadow spell, or perhaps an invisibility spell. However, Harper hadn't moved to follow him, instead staring giddily at him and repeating 'it? What is it?'

Merlin was used to having this type of effect on girls.

"Valente," he commanded, "Snap out of it. I was saying we should locate and pursue Mister Perrinwell."

"Of course," she replied automatically. Instantly, Harper's entire demeanor changed, "Why don't we try invisibility?"

Merlin felt like hitting a nice brick wall, but instead complied. Of all the group, he had to be stuck with the moronic fan girl type.

Ten minutes passed with no results. No one matching the description had passed by. Hadn't Professor Weslen said that the man had been cornered in the area? Frankly, Merlin wished they could have taken on a more serious assignment. One that could plausibly involve dueling and quick wand work. One that didn't involve Harper constantly bumping into him with a giggle and an 'oops'.

"Look, would you stop already?" He insisted, as she bumped into him for what seemed like the millionth time. Only when he turned to look, it was not a shadowy disguised Harper, but a small muggle child who screamed, "Mummy, Mummy, the wall just spoke to me!"

Disgusted with himself for not paying attention and Harper for seeming to have the attention span of a goldfish, Merlin glanced around for his partner.

When she was nowhere to be seen, he opted to wander down one of the nearby alleyways, this one much smaller than the one he'd been in. As soon as he strolled in, he felt a cool breeze rush by him, "Oh good, you're here!"

"What, wait, Valente!"

"She took my wand," Harper explained quickly, hand already deep within his jeans to grab his. Before he could stop her, she sent up bright red sparks with a simple incantation.

Aghast, Merlin asked, "Why in the world did you do that?"

"Obviously because mine was taken," Harper replied frustrated, "Don't uncloak yourself. I don't think she can spot us."

"Who?"

"That girl," Harper pointed towards the end of the alley, where a completely innocuous looking woman in her late twenties was standing, eyes closed. She wore knee high, expensive looking boots and a straight, smart skirt. A long jacket protected her from the autumn chill, but the wind seemed to be leaving her alone, as every strand of her light brown hair fell perfectly into place near her shoulder blades.

Merlin stared at Harper as though she was mad, then realized she could see him staring as though she was mad.

"I tried to stop her," Harper continued.

"Stop her from what?" Merlin was growing tired of this game, fast.

"Can't you see?" Harper asked.

"See what?"

He felt her lift his hand, even though he couldn't distinctly make out her form doing it. She was having him point towards the girl, but not towards her, rather towards her feet. And then Merlin saw why Harper was so weary.

"She killed him. She killed Perrinwell," Harper said gravely.

They heard footsteps approaching. So did the girl at the end of the alley. She was blocked in by large brick buildings on three sides, and Merlin and Harper on the fourth. They uncloaked themselves, dissolving out of the shadows right as Professor Weslen, Conrad, Simone, and Zillah arrived at their side. Assured by the presence of their instructor, the aurors-in-training darted forward. The rest of the group was quicker than Merlin- they saw Perrinwell's body immediately.

"Immobilius!" Professor Weslen yelled, but the girl deftly blocked it.

"You have nowhere else to go," Noah said calmly to the girl, approaching slowly. It wasn't entirely true. Being blocked in for a full grown witch with a license to apparate wasn't much of a problem. However, apparating was a five second process, and this witch seemed to realize that she had six wands aimed straight at her and the reaction times of the wielders were questionable.

"I surrender," she called back, raising her hands high above her head. Harper's wand had been cast aside. She had a low, throaty voice, as though she'd been mute for a long time and was only now recovering use of her vocal cords.

As they got closer, Merlin saw that her eyes were green, not like shining emeralds or any of that blather. More like freshly cut grass and pine needles and deep ocean accents, all blended together into one new, strange color.

"What's your name?" Simone asked in her heavily accented voice, concentrating more on the dead body than on the killer. Professor Weslen had told them that in a situation they weren't equipped to handle to keep the bad element distracted.

The bad element in this case, looked vaguely amused. She practically purred, "My friends call me Precious. Would you like to be my friend?"

Simone gulped and backed away, nodding all the while.

Harper rolled her eyes and muttered, "Very convincing, Simone. Say Precious, what made you think it would be fun to use an Unforgivable on that poor bugger?"

"He got in my way," Precious pursed her lips, and darted forward, "I don't like people who get in my way."

Harper rolled her eyes, " Yap, yap, yap, you stupid bint."

She turned expectantly to Professor Weslen, ignoring the way Precious merely smiled and crossed her arms. Professor Weslen, on his part was standing, staring, immobile. Well, that explained why he had yet to subdue her. Sort of. Not.

"Hi, Noah," Precious grinned, "You've gotten old."

Professor Weslen opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Wow, and so articulate," Precious continued. While she continued to mock him, the trainees were having mixed emotions. All knew that this was not the way their mission was supposed to go. Simone, for her part, was terrified. Zillah was watching, only half interested in what had gone on. The way she figured, her job was done, and she'd never had to lift a finger. What was the big deal? Conrad, Harper, and Merlin, however, were getting the very distinct feeling that Precious was doing exactly what they had been taught to do. Buy time.

Seconds later, their feeling was confirmed. Two loud cracks, followed by, "Hell's Bells, Precious. You've been playing without us."

Harper saw the owner of the voice first. It was only a silhouette, female. There was another, presumably male standing beside her, but he remained quiet.

"Oh dear, I thought you'd forgotten me," Precious chided.

"Never, my dear, never," the new girl drawled, sounding less than properly chastised.

Precious turned her attention back to the aurors-in-training, "I'd love to stay and play. Especially with you, Noah. Alas…duty calls."

Except for Noah, none of them would have been able to stop her from leaving. Rather than stun her, the Professor lowered his wand and whispered, "Prue."


	2. Where Wind Insists on Breathlessness

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 2: Where Wind Insists On Breathlessness_

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Chapter two of the loveliness. If you are a former reader of Giddy Brew, then you'll know the characters of Casey, Noah, Serendipity, etc already. Keep in mind this is ten years later, so they're all in the twenty seven to thirty range. 3 Harper and the rest of the aurors in training are all between eighteen and twenty two.

* * *

"Who the hell is Prue?" Harper demanded loudly. Merlin, Simone, Avarick, Zillah, Benvolio, and the twins were all gathered in her room. It was getting a little bit hot and cramped. After the scene in the alley, Noah had wordlessly disapparated back to Willowcrest, leaving his students stunned and alone. Curious, they had decided to tell the other team about what had happened and see what they could make of it. Quiet Eranthe and pompous Phinny had decided to pass. Zillah was perched on Avarick's chair, feet on the seat, avoiding touching anything that belonged to Harper. The twins on the other hand, had both made themselves comfy on her bed. With their feet on her comforter. Benvolio was reclining in her chair, and Simone was sitting pretty on the floor. Avarick and Harper were both cross legged on Avarick's bed, and Merlin was dangling his legs off Simone's.

"It doesn't ring a bell," Ben said shyly.

Chauncey raised his head, "Actually, it does. If only I could figure out from where."

Conrad nodded his agreement, but neglected to add anything.

"We don't even know if Precious is Prue," Zillah objected, "Professor Weslen said the name. Maybe she killed someone he knew?"

"Wait, didn't Professor Hargrove say that people he was close to had been killed?" Merlin asked.

"So? Professor Hargrove and Professor Weslen probably didn't know each other before Auror School," Harper responded.

Avarick blushed, "Actually, they went to school together. And if they didn't know each other, they knew of each other."

"How do you know?" Simone asked.

Avarick dug around under her bed and pulled out a box full of what looked like muggle CD's, but as was apparent by the dancing pictures on the cover, were witch merchandise.

"CD's?" Merlin asked.

"Didn't big bro say he was in a band, back in the day?" Chauncey wondered aloud.

"Here," Avarick shoved a CD front and center. On the cover were three redheaded boys, one who very much looked like a more slender version of the twins, and two who definitely shared their features. The one on the right was cradling a guitar and looked remarkably like Professor Hargrove. Gold lettering spelled out 'The Black Orbit' across the front.

"Whoa," Conrad breathed, "That's Cerulean. And Casey, and Cherridy! They really were in a band. Who'd have thought?"

Avarick said, "They had two others, but I left them back home. I'm really into retro music."

"What does this have to do with Professor Weslen?" Harper demanded.

"Oh, here," Avarick produced another CD, this one emblazoned with the words 'Dark Symphony'. A white haired god was posed half naked across the front, and Avarick pulled out the inset to show a vampiric looking boy on keyboards and a much more happy go lucky version of Professor Weslen playing the drums.

"They were both very popular bands for their time; they were each others competition. And all of Dark Symphony's members were in their seventh year at Hogwarts when Professor Hargrove was in his sixth."

"Hey," Merlin exclaimed, completely ignoring the blonde, "This is Polaris Morgan. He's a Quidditch star!

"That's our Uncle Polaris," Chauncey said proudly, "And wait, isn't this Uncle Orpheus?"

Conrad leaned over the CD, "It is. I can almost see what Cerulean likes about him. Almost."

When everyone looked to the twins for an explanation, Conrad smiled, "Our big brother, Cerulean works in a store with this guy. He's our Uncle Orpheus. They're…involved. And they play in a band for fun sometimes. With Uncle Polaris and this weird old guy named Marco."

"Where'd you get all this old music, Avarick?" Harper asked.

"My mom's a fan," Avarick shrugged, "I guess I became one too."

"So Professor Weslen and Professor Hargrove perhaps did know each other?" Simone breathed, "Maybe it is that they both knew this Prue girl? And she died?"

"We'd need a Hogwarts yearbook to prove that," Merlin pointed out.

"I could get that," Zillah put in.

Everyone stared. Only Ben tactfully managed, "You went to Shimmercobble, and your mother would have to be super young to have one."

"I have a cousin," Zillah said airily, "She went to Hogwarts around the same time these CDs were released. She was in a band herself, actually."

"Could you get hold of it?" Harper asked tentatively.

Rather than respond, Zillah disapparated.

Crossing her arms, Harper drawled, "Well that was rude."

She was slightly abashed when less than ten minutes later, Zillah returned with an old yearbook in tow. She explained, "Megaera lives a few towns over. It was a quick trip."

They quickly found what they were looking for. Noah Weslen had been a Gryffindor in his seventh year. Casey Hargrove had been a Ravenclaw in his sixth. There were several candid shots of both, due to their popularity. Casey practically drowning in a group of girls, two fingers flicking towards the photographer. Noah pinning Polaris Morgan to a wall with a magic marker poised. Casey trying to light a cigarette that wouldn't light (probably because it was taken within Hogwarts walls, where muggle inventions didn't work), while a group of boys laughed at him.

"Merde!" Simone gasped, startled, "Those boys are quite handsome."

Right above the picture of Casey trying to light the cigarette, there was a picture of three girls that kept drawing Harper's attention. Perhaps it was the way the tiny photographic Casey and his friends would occasionally look up out of their frame at the girls, who would giggle and jinx them. There was something about the three; one had short blonde hair and a slightly evil grin. She looked as though she was up to no good. A large-chested redhead had her arm around the blonde; this one had a somewhat shy smile. The third was a small, oriental looking girl who seemed extremely annoyed that no one was paying her any attention.

"Who are they?" Harper asked, unable to see the caption from where she sat.

Benvolio leaned over and read, "From right to left, Elanore Kingston, Serendipity Watson, and Prudence Gelliston. Isn't Prue a nickname for Prudence?"

"Wait, look here, it gets better," Zillah interrupted, "Meg told me where to look."

She flipped to the end of the book. A full page was dedicated as a type of memorial.

Again, Ben read aloud, "In blessed memory of Jasminder Mehendra Shah, Sean Franklin Wakefield, Elanore Moravia Kingston, and Prudence Leander Gelliston. May they find peace, for their lives were ended too early."

Zillah took over reading, "And there are quotes here from their friends. Here, from a Serendipity Watson… 'Ellie and Prue, I love you both. I can't believe you left me to finish school alone. Who am I supposed to trade lippy with and laugh about boys over now? I miss you more than you could ever imagine. Saints forever.'"

"Saints forever," Simone scoffed, "She thought them Saints?"

Somehow, Harper didn't think that was the meaning, but she let it slide.

"There are a lot more quotes, and some simple 'I love you's. One for Sean- here he's called Frank, from Professor Weslen. And there's a big long ramble here from Professor Hargrove, but it seems like he was in love with this Prue girl," Zillah sneered. She seemed to be recalling how Professor Hargrove had said his 'muggle born' friends had been killed.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Harper told the girl, who didn't even flinch.

"Leave her alone, Valente," Merlin said tiredly, "I don't even know why we're talking about a bunch of dead kids. This is so morbid. If the professors want to tell us, they will. I'm going to sleep."

Harper tried not to look hurt as Zillah and Merlin left the room. Ben and Chauncey stuck around to examine the year book a little longer, but then left. Only Conrad stayed behind, "For what it's worth, I think it's romantic. Kind of tragic, but romantic. He says here that he'll always love her. I didn't think big bro had that kind of depth."

"You're just trying to get that movie date out of me, aren't you?" Harper asked shrewdly.

"Not at all," Conrad grinned.

Wearily, Simone griped, "If you would please be getting out of our room. I am needing beauty sleep. Badly."

"Hey Con," Harper mumbled, as he turned to leave.

"Yeah?"

She kissed him on the cheek, "Thanks."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the faculty room, a meeting was at its beginning. The participants had been called upon two hours ago, right after Noah had returned with his news. Now, they only waited for one.

"What I don't understand," Casey snarled, "Is why you're here."

A much taller, more slender man with fire colored hair brushing against his ears blinked, "We're moral support."

The pale, white haired man standing next to him smiled kindly, "Not for you. For Noah."

"Go back to your bookstore," Casey rejoined, but it was only half hearted.

"So Quant and Sylvester can't make it?" a busty woman with red hair tied back in a loose chignon worried aloud.

The vampiric looking man standing next to her put a hand on her shoulder, "They have busy lives, dear. And when was the last time you spoke to them?"

"At Hogwarts," Casey answered for her, "The bloody berks."

Noah was seated in the corner of the room, head cradled in his hands. The white haired man knelt beside him, "Cheer up, mate. We don't have any proof."

"Orpheus," Noah said gladly, "I'm relieved you're here. You too, Polaris."

The vampiric man, Polaris Morgan, blushed, "Ah, like Sere would let me stay away."

"Yeah, Weslen," the redhead woman, Serendipity Watson-Morgan crossed her arms, "This concerns me too."

"I didn't mean it quite like that, sweetheart," Polaris sighed.

Orpheus Vaughn stood, rejoining his lover, Cerulean Hargrove, "Who exactly are we waiting for?"

"Bobby," Casey said shortly.

As though he had heard his name being called, a slender, curly haired man with a chin full of ash blonde scruff and a slight pixy of a girl appeared in the room with a crack.

"Bobby!" Serendipity threw her arms around the man, then stood back and eyed the girl, who was actually a full grown woman, "Hello, Tisiphone."

"Sorry we took so long," Bobby apologized, "Tisiphone had just caught a great shot of the Rhodesian Wombat Were."

Casey glared at his old friend, but before he could say anything, Serendipity cut in, "Oh yes, I'd heard she'd gone into documentary. And you're still a writer?"

Bobby scratched his chin, "I've gone into nonfiction. What about you?"

"Ah, I finally scored a job as head of the international alliance for predisposed wizardry and muggle interrelation," Serendipity bashfully bowed her head, beaming with pride.

"She's quite the smart one, my girl," Polaris said proudly.

"And you're playing Quidditch," Bobby told Polaris appreciatively, "Great game last week."

"We're in a band," Orpheus put in.

"A good band," Cerulean agreed.

"I mean the way you scored that goal," Bobby ignored the two men.

Polaris laughed good humouredly, "I'm in a band."

"Oh, really?"

"No one values us, Orphy," Cerulean whined.

"I'd value it if you would shut up," Casey put in.

Orpheus placed an arm around Cerulean as the man started spouting off about ungrateful little brothers with complexes.

"So we're here to talk about Prue, right?" Bobby asked, sobering right up.

"I saw her," Noah spoke up, "In an alley, with my kids."

"Yes," Tisiphone nodded, "And tomorrow you might want to explain to those kids. My sister popped in the middle of my last frame to tell me our cousin Zillah had come and stolen her yearbook."

Orpheus perked up, "Hey, your sister is Megaera Grant, right? How is she?"

"Her last name is Boysen, now," Tisiphone said coolly, "And you're going off subject."

"Why you married a Slytherin, I'll never know," Serendipity muttered to Bobby.

"She was in the alley," Noah continued, as though he hadn't paused at all, "She killed our man."

"She did what?" Casey gaped.

"She killed him?" Serendipity gave a sharp intake of breath, "She couldn't hurt a fly."

"That's a lie," Cerulean snorted with no real malice, "But she would never kill anyone."

"She didn't look the same. She- her hair was brown. I know, I didn't ever hang out with her that often, but I remember her. I remember everyone that Frank loved."

"But that's impossible," Serendipity cried, "Prue is dead."

Cerulean didn't seem too sure, "If she is alive, perhaps Elanore…and Frank…and that little fifth year….what was her name?"

"Jasminder," Orpheus replied.

"Wait. One thing I don't understand. If they are…how are they still alive? I…I saw Prue die. Right in my arms. I felt her life just…leave," Casey bit his lip, "Not that I'm not happy…"

"But it's impossible," Serendipity repeated.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably, "It…maybe it isn't."

"What do you mean?" All heads swiveled towards him.

"Maybe they're all alive. Maybe they all survived the hags of the forest," Bobby looked terrified.

Gently, Tisiphone said, "Bobby, you don't have to."

He pushed her comforting hand away, watching the way Casey and Noah were staring in horror at him.

"You knew," Casey growled in low tones, a dangerous glint in his eyes, "You knew she was alive?"

Bobby ran a hand self consciously along the small blonde hairs on his chin, "Now look. She made us promise that we wouldn't breathe a word of it to you."

"But you knew how much she meant to me," Casey whispered darkly.

"It's Prue. I couldn't break a promise to her! Casey, she didn't want you to see her like…like she is now."

Tisiphone spoke softly, "It's true. She's kind of scary."

Casey bit his lip, "She's Prue. She can't be scary."

"Except when she's coming at you with a two by four," Bobby said ruefully, remembering their Hogwarts days.

"Yeah, except then," Casey replied wistfully.

"Is Frank…?" Noah trailed off, not even daring to hope.

"Yes. Elanore too," Bobby admitted, "They're with Puck. We ran into them in Romania. And don't ask me how they're still here, because Prue didn't tell me."

"I was shooting my documentary," Tisiphone took up the story, "We were staying at an inn. There were these American boys there, partying. I never did find out what they were celebrating."

Bobby bit his lip, "They lifted their mugs and said, 'to Puck'. I didn't think it could be true. I thought, there must be millions of people named Puck, but then I saw one of the guys with them. He was older, familiar. Even with a goatee and longer hair, I could tell that it was Frank. I followed them as they left the inn. They went to where Prue and Elanore and Puck were. There were others too, but I didn't know them."

"Prue saw us, but she didn't give us away," Tisiphone laughed dryly, "I always hated that bitch back at school. She tracked us back to the inn."

"She said by no means were we to tell anyone what we'd seen."

"She begged us," Tisiphone spat.

Noah's eyes were growing wide. His voice cracked as he said, "Frank's still alive?"

"Yes."

Horrified, Serendipity breathed, "Why wouldn't they contact us? They must have known how hurt we would be."

Only one man spoke up. He'd been sitting ignored in the corner for quite awhile now. It didn't annoy him. He was the goblin liaison for the ministry. He was used to mental midgets who thought they were better than him treating him as though he didn't exist. He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, "Perhaps they couldn't."  
The new voice startled the group. Serendipity put a hand to her heart, "Joshua! When did you get here?"

"I've been here all along," Joshua Kenth drawled as though she wasn't really worthy of his words. Casey shot him a hot glare.

"What do you mean, couldn't?" Casey demanded, "They told Bobby."

"I don't know," Joshua confessed, "But I do know that Elanore is a smart girl. If she decided not to tell me back then, I'm sure it's not because she didn't love me, but because she had no choice. And loathe as I am to admit it, Prue Gelliston was gaga over you back in school. I'm sure it killed her to not tell you. Weslen, don't make me talk about that atrocity of a relationship you and Wakefield had. The same thing that applies to you both, I'm sure."

"You think?" Noah sniffed, feeling as though the past ten years had never happened, and he was back to being the almost carefree kid who'd loved Frank.

Joshua rolled his eyes, "I really don't know why I'm here. It's been ten years, in case someone failed to mention it to you. I'm over it. It would do you all good to move on."

"Bastard," Casey and Noah were on their feet in seconds, but Joshua had already gone with a loud 'crack'.

"If he's so over it, why was he here? But still," Casey said so quietly that only Noah heard him, "I wonder if he's not right."

Apparently, Serendipity had also heard, "No. Prue and Ellie were my best friends! Who cares that it was ten years ago? Even if we're no longer friends, we can still help them, right? They're caught up in something we don't understand. What if the aurors get to them before we can?"

Slightly chastened, and slightly amused, Casey said softly, "We are the aurors, Sere."

"Well, then it's your duty to find them and stop them," she grinned.

"Stop them from what? We don't even know what they're doing. All we know is that Prue killed Perrinwell," Cerulean reasoned.

Tisiphone smirked, "Actually, we may have overheard a little something that might be useful. It was less than half a year ago, after all."

"Really?" Casey inquired, "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"They were planning something," Bobby said quietly, "Strategic murders…something about taking over the ministry. Eliminating the mudbloods."

"Why wouldn't you tell anyone this?" Noah demanded, face hardening. He realized that he was no longer the lighthearted drummer he'd been in his school days. He'd seen things that were too awful to recall.

"We did," Tisiphone placed a hard inflection on the 'did', "We told Dirk and Dana Drake."

"They got married?" Serendipity asked, disregarding the shock written across the rest of the group's faces.

"C'mon, mate," Bobby pleaded with Casey, "We couldn't tell the rest of the magical reinforcement department, and you guys were off limits. Dirk and Dana run their own detective agency."

"They're perfectly equipped to do dangerous work," Tisiphone concurred.

Noah and Casey were extremely disgruntled, but Orpheus stepped up and said, "Relax. It's all copasetic."

"Whatever that means," Casey declared.

Stated Cerulean, "It means everything's cool. We all need to relax."

"You relax. I feel like being stressed," Casey frowned, "and I still can't believe you guys betrayed us like this."

"Betrayed?" Bobby demanded, outraged, "You want to talk about betrayal?"

"Oh no, not again," Casey groaned, "It's been ten years! You can't still be mad that I ended up with Prue."

"You stole her from me," Bobby yelled, "And yeah, it's been ten years. Ten years Casey! Like Joshua said, has it ever occurred to you that maybe Prue didn't want me to tell you because she's moved on? That maybe she didn't want you involved in her life anymore?"

Casey sucked in his breath, as though Bobby had sucker punched him. Hadn't he thought the same thing minutes ago? That he needed to move on? That Prue wouldn't have held on to him for quite so long? Why was everyone telling him this over and over again? He got the point already. It was just…taking a while to sink in. Like ten years or so.

"Well, uh, sure. Sure I've thought of that," Casey replied lamely. Cerulean wrapped his arms around his little brother's shoulders. Immediately, Casey tensed and shrugged him off with a rude gesture.

Smiling blandly, Cerulean said, "So do we have a course of action?"

Everyone looked at him rather blankly.

"Well, I assumed we were here to figure out what to do with our little renegade Prue. Or was I mistaken? If we're just going to talk the issue to death I would have stayed home and pursued better endeavors," lewdly he let his eyes roam over Orpheus's body.

"I'd be interested in watching," Tisiphone volunteered. Bobby nudged her lightly with his elbow.

"Do you have a suggestion?" Casey asked with a scowl.

"Well…the Drakes don't seem to be doing their job very well; not if little Prue has been using Unforgivables in London back alleys. Why don't you let Orphy and I do a little research on you know, how exactly they're still living. Bobby, Tisiphone, why don't you two check up on Dirk and Dana? Serendipity, Polaris- you guys can see if there have been any other corresponding weird murders or events. We'll meet back in a week?"

"What about us?" Noah objected.

"You two sit tight, and don't get all discombobulated on me. We'll get back to you soon as possible."

Casey and Noah exchanged wary looks. They'd been trained to act, not to sit back and wait. This was going to be hard.

* * *

Three days had passed, and Professor Weslen hadn't said a word in class about what had happened in London . He spent three classes discussing the more complex aspects of the animagus transformation, which they would first try in just two weeks. His heart wasn't in the lecture however, and the students could tell. It was the way his eyes stared blankly over the top of their heads and his slightly illegible writing as he scribbled disjointed pictures on the blackboard.

"I want to know!" Avarick whined, putting her head down on the desk despondently.

"I know. I want to know too."

"What do you think it'll be?" the blonde asked, "A dog?"

"A dog? Why would there be a dog in the story?"

"Story? And why not a dog? I think it would be great fun to be a dog. Although I'm much more partial to cats."

"…I think we're talking about two different things," Harper told her friend incredulously.

"I'm talking about my animagus form," Avarick chirped, "Weren't you?"

"No. I was talking about when Professor Weslen was going to tell us about London . Why didn't we go after her?"

"Well, she apparated away. It's not like we know where she went. How could we track her?"

"Don't you ever listen in Professor Dusserre's class? There's all sorts of charms to track apparition if it's within five kilometers, and if not, I'm sure if we all scoured the papers we could find some sort of theme…localized murders, perhaps?"

Unconvinced, Avarick said, "Harper…I think you think too much. If Professor Weslen doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't have to. I mean, it's his business."

"I guess so. I think being a dog would be pretty nice too," she said quickly, changing the subject.

Avarick brightened and launched into a length discussion of what animals she hoped to become. Meanwhile, Harper's eyes bored into Professor Weslen's back as he drew a grotesque depiction of someone's who's transformation wasn't quite completed. What secrets was he hiding? Even if it wasn't her business, she couldn't help but want to know.

* * *

Merlin Pembroke came from a good family. Even though his dad had died in jail, and even though his brother was a bit of a loser activist, Merlin's bloodline was pure. That's what Zillah Carew's mother told her all through her school years. Zillah personally had no feelings for or against Merlin. He was cute, if you liked the preppy look. Still, she saw the way he struggled to smile and be nice to everyone. Even if they couldn't tell, she could. He was pretending. Zillah knew because she'd pretended for a long, long time. It wasn't till she joined the Truebloods that she realized it was stupid to be someone she wasn't. She wasn't someone who could accept all this peace and love and mixing of the bloodlines that the new regime of wizards and witches were preaching. She came from a family that was older than old, and was just as good as Merlin's.

So no matter how hard her mother pushed, Zillah never became friends with Merlin in school. She couldn't be friends with someone who smiled and laughed and befriended mudbloods and then secretly thought dark thoughts about them. Zillah was sure that Merlin's mind was a dark and twisty place, and she had no desire to become a part of it. She much preferred the kind of cruelty you could see. The hidden kind just bred bad juju, in her opinion. Aside from that, it was a cowardly way to live, wasn't it? Even Merlin's brother turned out to be better than him. He was a Trueblood, just like Zillah. Actually, Warren Pembroke became one of the people she most admired.

The first time Merlin approached her at Willowcrest with a amiable smile, Zillah ignored him. The second time, she said some words her mother wouldn't have appreciated. The third time, she figured she might as well listen to what he had to say. Zillah was highly disappointed in what she heard.

"Say, uh, do you want to go out sometime?" Merlin said, with a show of being embarrassed.

"No."

"Oh, are you seeing someone?" Merlin asked, face falling.

"No."

"Are you just not interested in dating?"

"No. I just don't like you," Zillah retorted.

"Well, why not?" Merlin's face lightened, "I bet if you got to know me…"

"Does anyone know you Merlin? I see the disgust on your face when you think the mudbloods aren't looking. You never act on it."

Startled, Merlin replied, "Well, I didn't think anyone noticed."

Zillah made a revolted face and said, "You don't hide it as well as you think."

Dropping all pretenses, Merlin's face transformed into something dark. It was the kind of face no auror should have, one filled with darkness. He smirked, "I think I like you even better when you get all arrogant and psycho analytic."

"Go date a mudblood," Zillah spat.

"Never. But I can get close," he said sardonically, "You'll want me badly by the time I'm through."

"Oh, didn't I mention? I'm not interested in dating," she smiled prettily and walked away. Crossing his arms contentedly, Merlin's face melted back into his normal pleasant demeanor. He watched her retreat with a smile. It was only after Merlin walked away humming that Conrad and Chauncey peeked out of the closet they'd been hiding in. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, really. It was just that the last time they'd run into Zillah Carew she'd hexed them so that they were cornered in the boys bathroom by a particularly large, spell proof cobra for close to an hour. When they saw her coming, they ducked into the closet, and then Merlin had cornered her. However, the conversation had certainly been enlightening.

"What a berk," Chauncey remarked. Conrad agreed. Together, the twins resolved to look into the Merlin's background. Neither would admit it was because they had heard Harper and Avarick discussing how dreamy the boy was only minutes earlier.

"Who do we know that lives in America ?" Chauncey asked his brother.

Conrad paused to think, "Doesn't Aunt Shailly live somewhere in that direction?"

"Oh yeah!" Chauncey snapped his fingers, "I bet she knows what's what. I'll go write her a letter right now."

"Hey! What are you two doing? I thought we were getting lunch?" Harper shrieked down the hall at them. Haughtily, she tossed her hair and walked towards them, hands on her hips.

"Uh, we were just coming. Where's Avarick?" Chauncey asked.

"She has to study for the Charms exam tonight," Harper announced disgustedly, "And Ben is practicing Quidditch outside."

"All alone?" Conrad asked.

"Yes, I know. He's a bit odd," even so, Harper smiled fondly.

"Hmm, you know what? I just remembered that I had something to do. You two have fun, mmkay? Buh bye," Chauncey grinned, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and striding away.

Harper frowned, "What's with him?"

Conrad shook his head wondrously, "I have no idea."

"Do you want to get lunch?" she demanded.

"Sure. I don't have anything to do. Cafeteria?"

Harper agreed. The cafeteria at Willowcrest was actually a large wood paneled dining room with one long cherry wood table. Paintings, both muggle and wizard-made alike lined the walls, all in gaudy tarnished gold frames. Most of them featured stuff old men who had been famous before the time of Willowcrest's founders. The ones that moved limited their movements to yawns and loud snores.

Every day there was a different array of buffet style foods laid out. Harper and Conrad each loaded their plates till they couldn't fit anymore and found a spot at the table near the large, narrow windows at the front of the room. There were only five or six older students with their heads buried in large, dusty texts sitting at the table, occasionally shoving bits of food into their mouths without ever taking their eyes off the books.

"Oh. Now I remember why we don't eat here," Harper remarked quietly.

"We could go outside," Conrad suggested.

"Nah, let's just annoy the older kids. I think it's starting to drizzle."

"Hate the wet," Conrad frowned, "Hope it doesn't pour for a week straight like last time."

"A little rain never killed anyone," Harper smiled, "I like rain."

Fondly, Conrad replied, "Yes, I remember."

"Ooh, remember that time we went to that fancy dress ball as dragons?" Harper demanded excitedly, struck by the memory. The two of them had worn very complicated costumes designed by Harper's mother in their second year and snuck into a ball that only older kids at Hogwarts were allowed to be at. The costumes breathed fire and everything.

"How could I forget? The expression on Professor Esquiline's face when you lit her hair on fire!"

"I didn't mean to," Harper squealed, ignoring the shushing noises some of the older kids were making.

"You so did!" Conrad protested, "I remember, you got that little smirk you wear when you're up to mischief."

"Up to mischief?" Harper raised an eyebrow, "Did you spend the summer with your grandfather again?"

Blushing, Conrad replied, "Maybe. He has a lot of good books."

"I bet you just wanted to hit on that new maid he's got himself."

"How did you know about that?" Conrad choked on a bit of his meal.

Primly Harper replied, "Just because you stopped talking to me after graduation doesn't mean Chauncey did. He owled me once in a while."

"That prat," Conrad seethed, "I'll murder him in his sleep."

"Aw, come on. It's nothing to be embarrassed about Con," Harper giggled, twirling a lock of her thick black hair.

Conrad sucked in a sharp breath, and she looked startled, "What?"

"Nothing," he covered quickly, because he knew it would be bad to tell her she looked beautiful, "What about you? Any new boys?"

"Hey, not so quick, mister. You didn't tell me what happened with the girl."

"Her name was Elke, thank you very much. And…nothing happened. She had a boyfriend," he admitted.

"Wow. Good job," Harper slapped him hard on the back, causing him to choke again, "And for your information, no. No boys."

"But you're eyeing Benvolio, am I right?" Conrad asked shrewdly.

Turning red, Harper sputtered, "I am n-not!"

"Sure you're not. Denial is an ugly thing," he mused.

"Aren't you supposed to be all raging with jealousy that your ex had moved on?" Harper demanded irately, yanking hard on his ponytail.

"Ow! That hurts you know!"

"That'll teach you to mess with me."

"Oh yes, Mistress Harper," Conrad rolled his eyes, "And I am not supposed to be seething with jealous. Mildly annoyed, perhaps."

"Con," Harper warned.

"I said mildly!" he retorted, "Ben's a good guy. I bet you could turn on the charm and he'd be all over you."

"Mm," Harper agreed, "Actually though, I haven't really been able to think about boys since London ."

"You? Not thinking about boys? It's a miracle!" Conrad shouted, earning him so very nasty glares.

"Shut up, you tosser," Harper seethed, "You're embarrassing me."

Conrad straightened, "I know what you mean though. I'm dying to know what the story is on that woman. I mean, I know she's some dead chick from big bro's past, right? But they must be following up on it. Professor Weslen's face looked so…"

"Haunted?" Harper suggested.

"Exactly."

"Avarick isn't interested. She says it's none of my business," Harper scowled.

"I know what you mean. Chauncey probably doesn't even remember."

"And I seriously doubt Merlin or Zillah care," she grinned, "You want to do some investigating ourselves?"

"Naturally. Where do we start?"

Harper paused. She didn't know anything about how a real auror would look into a murderer. That was what she was here to learn, after all. Thoughtfully she said, "I guess we tail Professor Hargrove."

"Casey," Conrad corrected, "I get the creeps every time I hear Professor Hargrove or Mister Hargrove. That's our dad."

"I thought your dad was dead?" Harper asked, then realized she was being insensitive.

At the look on her face, Conrad grinned, "I don't even remember our dad. And our stepdad's great. But whenever we do something wrong mom goes, 'You're just like your father. Your real father, I mean. Why, Mister Hargrove bless his soul, blah, blah, blah."

"Fine. We tail Casey," Harper said, testing the name out. She hoped she didn't forget and call him that to his face.

"But when? We have class," Conrad responded doubtfully.

"I doubt he'd pursue official business during the day. He is a teacher after all. Every night, I think. Yes, I think that'll be good."

"Starting tonight?"

"Starting tonight," Harper affirmed, feeling better already.

* * *

A/N: Rather short chapter I think. Next chapter: Much more Casey, Noah, and the older folks. Dirk and Dana, and I think a little more on Avarick, Chauncey, and Merlin. Oh, and uh...sorry for the sudden break in formatting. The bottom half (If it keeps the indents and all after I save) is the orriginal version- size ten font, single space, proper indents and all- I had to copy and paste because won't load the entirety of my Html file. -


	3. The Shadow of My Past

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 3: The Shadow of My Past_

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Ahhh, so the name of this chapter is from the song Starless Night, which is technically a Trapnest song. It's by Olivia, who is the singer for Reira in Nana. I'm in a Nana phase, and I LOVE Olivia's voice.

* * *

Days passed, and Casey did absolutely nothing interesting. All they discovered was his utterly filthy penchant for smoking when he was upset and his strange affinity for muggle movies at the cinema.

Downcast, Harper crashed on to Conrad's bed, "I really thought we'd turn up something by now."

"Come on, Harpy. It's only been three days."

"I know, but if she was his one true love or whatever that year book said…"

"It's been a long time. I bet he doesn't feel the same way," Conrad said thoughtfully.

"Still, if he loved her once, doesn't he like owe it to her memory, or something along those lines?" Harper bit her lip. She wondered if she had too many old fashioned romantic notions.

"I bet he will. Big bro's kinda noble."

"So tonight?"

Conrad nodded grimly, "Tonight. I don't know if I can keep this up though. Seven in the morning class, and we're up till three following my brother. I'm kinda…sleepy."

He yawned, and Harper pinched his arm, "Don't do that, you're going to make me…"

Harper stopped and yawned. Accusingly she said, "See?"

Conrad collapsed on the bed next to her, and suggested, "We could take a nap."

"Mm," Harper said, snuggling up next to him. It didn't occur to either that perhaps friends didn't normally do such things. The thought never even crossed their mind. As they fell into a deep sleep, neither thought about who might see.

Barely ten minutes later, Chauncey and Benvolio walked in. It was their room, after all. Also it was four in the afternoon. They were loudly discussing the virtues of Professor Dusserre's tight pant suits when their eyes fell on the two intertwined bodies in Conrad's bed.

"Oh," Benvolio said quietly.

"Sweet," Chauncey cheered, then realized this might not be the right thing to say.

Both quietly observed Conrad's soft snoring and the way his red hair was curling into Harper's black halo.

"I thought he said they weren't dating anymore?" Benvolio asked softly.

"They aren't, mate. They're just…very close," Chauncey shook his head, "Lucky bastard."

* * *

Harper and Conrad woke up just short of ten o clock. The room was dark and empty. Frowning, Harper wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and tried to smell her breath.

"I've got toothpaste," Conrad volunteered.

"Oh thanks. So I reek now?"

"Uh, no…" meekly Conrad slunk out of bed. They both brushed their teeth and decided there wasn't time for dinner. They normally started following Casey near nine, and neither liked running an hour late. Just in case, Conrad grabbed two soft sweatshirts to bring along.

The halls were mostly quiet and dark. It was a Friday, and luckily there was no class tomorrow. The time to try their animagus transformations was quickly approaching, and following Casey hadn't been helping their study habits. Sneakily they approached his office. The door was slightly ajar, a thin beam of light cutting through the darkness. Crouching down outside the door, both eagerly peeked in.

Casey was sitting, feet on the surface of his desk. Light instrumental music was filtering through the air. Professor Weslen was leaning against the desk, tapping his fingers in time to the music.

"Tonight, right? They said it would happen tonight?" Noah asked nervously.

"Yes," Casey snapped, "That's the third time you've asked you git."

"Mate, you should calm down," Noah raised an eyebrow.

Casey groaned loudly, "I am calm. What time is it?"

"Ten after," Noah said, "Reckon we should head out."

"Probably. Three Broomsticks, right?" Casey asked.

Noah nodded. Seconds later, the two apparated away.

"We should follow," Harper snapped.

"Uh. Right. But won't they see us?"

"Shoot, you're right."

"We could use glamours," Conrad suggested.

Harper snapped her fingers, "Good idea. Hurry, hurry."

"What? I thought you remembered the spell."

"…vaguely," Harper pouted.

"I don't…well, I guess I can try," Conrad screwed up his face in concentration. He barely recalled the charm that they'd learned only yesterday. Even though Professor Dusserre had chanted it at least fifty times, the Latin incantation had slipped from his mind.

He tried out a few nonverbal spells, but only succeeded in changing the color of Harper's eyebrows to a stark white. Mixing the words up a bit, Conrad envisioned the way he wanted Harper to look clearly in his mind. This time, he got the spell right.

"Um," Harper scowled, "No."

Grinning, Conrad examined his handy work, "You look fine."

"I look like a slut," Harper exclaimed indignantly.

Conrad ignored her and tried out his own transformation. Except for a slight snicker from Harper and an assurance that he looked fine, he couldn't tell if it had worked. They apparated to just outside the Three Broomsticks. The place wasn't nearly as full as either remembered from their Hogwarts days. It wasn't empty either.

As they walked in, Conrad caught sight of himself in one of the mirrors that adorned the wall. Boy, had he messed up. His hair was thinning and white and his skin had browned and wrinkled. Big bushy eyebrows framed his now dark eyes, and he had quite the pot belly. The dark brown cardigan he appeared to be wearing looked dirty and crumpled. He'd imagined himself young and dashing, not old and disgusting. Harper looked fine, despite her protests. He'd imagined her as a particularly buxom redhead, with softly curling hair, pouty lips, and dangerous curves. He'd even thrown in a sexy, albeit revealing red dress in his mind. Never mind that it was freezing outside. He reluctantly handed her one of the sweaters he'd brought and put on his own.

The dark green sweatshirt looked a little too young for his glamoured self, but it would have to do. The frigid air was seeping into his bones.

Casey, Noah, and six other people were seated in one of the large booths near the entrance. They were hard to miss. Harper and Conrad discretely slid into a booth across from them and ordered firewhiskeys from one of the pretty barmaids. Then they set out to observe.

* * *

Casey and Noah sat pensively next to Orpheus and Cerulean. Bobby, Serendipity, and Dirk and Dana Drake sat across from them. Dana's hair had grown long and wavy, and her ruby highlights caught the light. She wore a professional looking navy suit and a serious look that she hadn't had in her Hogwarts days. Dirk had lost his lime green hair in favor of much tamer pitch black locks. His green eyes were friendly and open. It was rather disconcerting for Casey. He was still used to thinking of the man as a malicious Slytherin boy.

"So," Bobby said lightly, "What have you got for us, Drake?"

"And which one of us are you addressing?" Dana asked coldly.

"Uh…Dirk," Bobby said uncertainly. He'd been on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team with Dana and he was certain she'd never been this mean before.

Dirk shrugged with an apologetic smile. Married life had definitely softened him up. He pulled out a manila envelope that appeared to be stuffed full of files. He pulled them all out and laid them on the table.

In a very professional tone Dirk said, "We've been following Prue, Elanore, Frank, and Jasminder for three months. We first got on their trail five months ago, when Bobby informed us that they were still alive. However, it took two months just to track them down. I'm surprised it didn't take longer, actually. We only caught on to them by a stroke of pure luck."

"What happened?" Cerulean asked.

"Well, about a month into the investigation we started getting reports of…incidents. People in America who were getting tortured into insanity by the Cruciatus curse. None of them were higher officials- they all worked for the government, but none had positions of any real importance."

Dana interrupted, "Postal workers and the like."

To make his point, Dirk pulled a couple of glossy photos to the forefront of his pile. They depicted individuals with glazed, pained looks in their eyes. Some were crime scene pictures.

"Occasionally, they would be tortured into death. We didn't think it had anything to do with Prue's crew, but we decided to follow up just in case. It was the only lead we had."

Casey felt his stomach turn, but continued to listen. Dirk went on, "Then we ran into two young men. Truebloods. That's a predominantly American gang, I'm not sure if you've…"

"We have," Noah said shortly, "We are aurors, you know."

"Just checking," Dirk said placidly, "Well, these two men knew of our targets. We had to run the description Bobby gave us, having never seen them ourselves."

"They said a girl called Precious had recruited them over a year ago. They had been in Romania with her. They said that the string of torture cases was to get bits of key information without ever informing the real authorities. They'd done the same in Romania."

Dana's eyes narrowed, "Apparently we'd missed something. They needed names, schedules, things that one wouldn't normally find important. We thought they were trying to get secrets of the government."

"We never imagined they'd be trying to get into the government themselves. Without ever raising any suspicion they tracked the lives of several high ranking officials not just in America, but here in Britain, in Romania, France, and several other countries."

"I don't get it. I thought that time in the woods that the wicked sisters only wanted to kill all the half-bloods and muggle-borns," Serendipity asked.

"...This might be difficult to explain. Our sources never mentioned the three sisters. They said the main arm of this operation consists of three men named Puck, Arawn, and Robin, who report to a higher authority. They didn't know the name of this person, but Dirk and I have since found out he is called Gradaver Moerte. All our sources knew was the three men, Precious, a girl named Ellie- who is obviously Elanore, and a boy named Henry- Frank. They also spent time with a girl called Durga, who we know to be Jasminder Shah. The boys were only able to give us one other piece of information."

Dirk took up the story from Dana, "They want power. They still want to eliminate their enemies, but they're being incredibly strategic about it. Once they get news of all the different ministries resources and have access to the people in power they plan to start an all out war. Guys, they're recruiting."

"We sort of have a grasp on their patterns. We think," Dana took a deep breath, "We think we know who they're going after next. Britain is their final target. They've already planted people everywhere else. They want to get to the minister before attacking- they practically have an army now."

To stress her point, Dana sorted through the glossies to reveal several pictures of their once friends.

The first made Casey gasp. He had no clue what Prue would look like after all these years. But there she was, captured on film in front of a group of eager looking youngsters costumed similarly to deatheaters. Prue was wearing a red collared shirt with black pinstripes, unbuttoned way too low beneath a form fitting black vest. Her hair was long and light brown, and choppy bangs fell into her mossy green eyes, but Casey would recognize her anywhere.

"She really is alive," he said wondrously.

"What, you doubted us?" Bobby snorted.

"Well, you have to admit. It is slightly improbable."

Bobby relented. The next picture was also of Prue, with a veritable regimen of young people, this time normally dressed. This time her hair was piled in a very sloppy bun and she wore a black and red patterned dress. There were more pictures of Prue, and others. Some showed Elanore, a tiny woman with short, sharply angled dark hair and almond shaped eyes. She was almost always wearing variations of blue, purple, and black. She also had small gangs of kids with her. Others had Frank, a handsome man with blonde scruff on both his chin and his head. He wore combinations of orange, green, and black, and looked very laid back in his role of mentor to his groups of kids. Actually, in all the pictures, the three looked similar to camp counselors. The only creepy part was their completely expressionless faces.

It was when Dirk and Dana showed their pictures of 'Durga' and the man called Gradaver, as well as their lackeys that Casey's skin started to crawl. Little Jasminder Shah had become a strikingly beautiful woman. She had long dark hair and wore dresses of sunlight and shadow woven together. Gradaver was a tall, androgynous looking man with silver hair secured in a slick ponytail. There wasn't a single picture of them that wasn't mostly obscured in shadow. Casey shivered even more at the pictures of Puck, Arawn, and Robin. These were the men that killed his friends. He couldn't help but feel revolted. Fairy scum.

"So…what do we do?" Serendipity asked finally, her eyes never leaving a picture that had 'Precious', 'Henry', and 'Ellie' standing tall with their wands ready, army behind them. Her finger traced their faces.

"We stop them, I suppose. And we get our friends back," Orpheus said.

Casey was surprised. In school, Orpheus had barely any contact with all of them. It was touching to see him want to get involved. Moved, he watched as Cerulean took his boyfriend's hand.

"I meant how do we do that?" Serendipity growled.

"The information on who their next target is can be found in this folder," Dana waved the manila envelope in the air, "Along with anything else that we found to be relevant. You can keep the pictures."

"Thank you," Casey breathed.

For the first time all night, Dana smiled sweetly and said, "Your welcome."

They discussed old times for a little while longer over warm butter beer and pumpkin pasties. Soon enough Dirk and Dana had to get back home; apparently they had to care for Dana's new niece. Bobby also pleaded to leave. Tisiphone was waiting for him. Soon enough, Cerulean and Orpheus also grew tired and apparated back to their bookstore, even though it was within walking distance. Serendipity, Casey, and Noah were left alone in their booth.

"You'll tell me if you find anything else?" Serendipity asked. Casey noticed how pale she looked. This whole ordeal probably wasn't good for her.

"Of course we will," he replied kindly, "Get back to Polaris. I'll owl you the second anything happens."

Gratefully, the redhead hugged them both, then apparated away. Exhausted, Noah said, "See you back at school."

When he was gone, Casey took a deep gulp of his remaining butter beer. He was a pretty good auror. He was used to following people, and used to being followed. It hadn't escaped his notice when a buxom red head and a weary old man had slid into the booth across from them. Nor had he ignored how they hung on every word the group had said. They were still there now, but they looked ready to make their escape. Striding up to their table Casey asked, "So…I hope you know you two make the most unbelievable couple ever?"

"Excuse me?" the red head squeaked.

"Girls who look like you don't spend their time with old men unless they're filthy rich. And you, my boy, look…homeless. Plus, those jumpers used to belong to me when I was younger. Mum give them to you?" he asked the old man ironically.

"Er- yeah," guiltily, Conrad slid the glamours off of him and Harper.

"What are you two doing here?" Casey demanded, enjoying the opportunity to be stern with his brother.

"We were hungry," Conrad covered quickly, "Very hungry."

"And nostalgic," Harper piped in bravely.

"Oh, definitely nostalgic," Conrad agreed.

"And now the truth," Casey goaded.

When Conrad only studied his shoes, Harper took a step forward, "Professor Hargrove, we're sorry. But the curiosity was killing us. We know it was none of our business, don't we?"

Conrad didn't answer, so Harper kicked him in the shin, "Oh! Yes, yes, we know it was horribly wrong of us to eavesdrop."

"But…it wasn't really fair of Professor Weslen to leave us hanging like that," Harper scowled.

"It was none of your business," Casey reminded her.

"Well, yes," Harper decided to also be terribly interested in Conrad's shoes.

Studying the two guilty parties, he decided they looked ashamed enough and took pity. Groaning, he said, "Take a seat."

"What?" Conrad asked, surprised.

"You wanted to know, right?" Casey rolled his eyes, gesturing to the booth.

Once they were settled, Casey ordered up another round of butter beer. Even though he'd seen them both previously nursing firewhiskeys, his mother was terribly against liquor. She'd have his head if she found out he'd given his little brother some, of age or no.

"Once upon a time, I went to Hogwarts," he grinned, not knowing any other way to start the story, "I was in Ravenclaw. My first day there, I met a little girl with long brown hair and a big smile. We became instant friends."

"Over the years, I grew to develop a huge crush on this girl, but she ignored me."

Here, Conrad snickered. Casey glared at him, but continued, "Actually, it was more than a crush. I loved her. We'd been together for years, playing pranks on each other and laughing together, and I couldn't help myself. We went through a lot of drama to be together. She dated my older brother, which pissed me off majorly."

"Is Cerulean really gay?" Conrad interrupted. He'd meant to ask earlier, having been traumatized at the sight of his brother and Uncle Orpheus engaged in a short make out session when they first sat down. Although he supposed there was a reason they called him Uncle Orpheus.

"Yes," Casey said shortly, "Is that problematic?"

Cornad gulped and realized he should let his brother finish his story, "Oh, not at all."

"Her name was-"

"Prue Gelliston. We know," Harper burst, then blushed.

"You've done some research," Casey nodded to show he approved, "Well, while Prue and my relationship was advancing, we failed to see the strange stuff that was happening. We found a passageway in the Ravenclaw common room that lead to the middle of the forbidden forest."

"Aw man, why didn't I ever find that?" Conrad demanded.

"I think they sealed it," Casey informed him, "Then a transfer student imperiused my best friend and Prue into cheating on me so that she could be with me. She enchanted me, and I ended up hurting my friends. Still, we didn't understand. My other friends ran into a strange pureblood activist in the forest. Finally, a younger girl disappeared. On the way to our friend Serendipity's birthday party, we were stopped by the strange man. His name was Puck."

At the mention of Puck's name, Casey's face transformed. He had nothing but hatred for this man, and both could tell, "They played a game with us. All year, they'd used us as guinea pigs to test their power. That's why Steffie had spelled me, and that's why Jasminder had disappeared. I found out later a million other strange things had happened, but I'd been too involved with myself and Prue to notice. I was never all that observant. Anyway, we lost the game. Elanore died. They had captured Frank, and when she died, they killed him. Last but not least, they killed Prue. The rest of us escaped. I thought that was then end of it."

"Did you miss her?" Harper asked.

"Like crazy," Casey replied without missing a beat.

"But she's alive now," Conrad exclaimed.

"Yes, she is," Casey smiled warily, "But we don't know why. And she's been killing people."

"Well, that can't be healthy for your relationship," his little brother answered.

"I suppose not. You two want to be a part of this now?" he questioned.

Harper beamed, "Sure!"

"Too bad."

"Come on!" Conrad whined, "That's not fair."

"Life isn't all that fair," Casey mused.

"Please?" Harper begged.

Amused, Casey responded, "I'll consider your proposal and get back to you. Now go back to school!"

* * *

Serendipity Watson had worked hard to get where she was in the ministry. As the head of the international alliance for predisposed wizardry and muggle interrelation, also known as IAPWAMI, Serendipity was in charge of practically every muggle related event from Britain to Japan. That included assisting the sporting department set up Quidditch World Cups, running large concerts, and even helping the aurors make their arrests. Serendipity was right at the center of things. But she had a secret.

The tawny owl landed softly on her desk. She untied the letter from it's leg and waved it over to the cage stocked with water and food she kept just for him. Softly she cooed, "Good owl, Mnemosyne."

Hooting once, the owl flew into the gilded cage. Serendipity unfurled the letter and smiled. Things were going according to plan. They'd enter the Ministry in two days. Oh, it would be nice to see Prue and Ellie again. It had been almost a year since the last time they'd visited…

* * *

Even though the skies were dark, Avarick had gone for a walk. The skies were always dark in this place, so she figured getting wet wouldn't be much of a change. She'd strolled for almost an hour through the boggy marsh. Her white boots were black with mud, and the rain had started steadily about ten minutes ago. Still, she wasn't in any hurry to get back to Willowcrest. It wasn't like anyone would see her out here, with her blonde hair plastered to her forehead and rain dripping down the tip of her nose.

Avarick liked the rain. It was peaceful. Plus, it was nice to drop the goody-goody act for a while. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy gushing about boys and clothes and getting good grades. She liked being the perfect Gryffindor. She wasn't secretly in some sort of Neo-Death eater sect, and she thought name calling was abhorrent. To be honest, Avarick just liked to be alone sometimes. She hadn't had many friends back at Hogwarts. Every time she'd made a good friend, they ended up staying too close for too long, and she would snap. Every time, she drove them around. So Avarick was very happy to have Harper as a friend. She was happy to make jokes with Conrad, Chauncey, and Ben. And when she felt like it was too much, she could do this. She could cool her head in the downpour. Willowcrest was a much freer place than Hogwarts.

Naturally, she didn't expect to bump into anyone out here. She was at least a mile from both the academy and from town. So, unseeing, Avarick started when her body his something solid and warm.

"Whoa there," a masculine voice chuckled.

Avarick stumbled back. It took a minute for her to realize that Merlin Pembroke was staring back at her. Rudely she blurted out, "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he retorted, "You're rather…wet."

"So are you," she answered defensively, "And I like it out here."

"So do I," he raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Well, can you like it out here somewhere else? This is my marsh."

"When did you buy it?"

"Ages ago," she remarked before her mind caught up to what she was saying, "I mean, I didn't buy it. But I was here first."

"You sound like you're three."

"And you're being very stubborn. I'm asking you nicely to leave me alone," she didn't care much that she was being nasty to the cutest guy at Willowcrest. This was her precious alone time. He had no right to interrupt her.

"If I'm being stubborn, you're being unsociable," he smirked.

"Well…your accent is stupid!" Avarick crossed her arms.

"I don't have an accent," he said imperiously.

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself," Avarick drawled.

Merlin was looking at her rather strangely, "You are Avarick Tyler, right?"

She was semi-insulted. How could he not know who she was at this juncture? With a scowl she replied, "Who else would I be?"

"Her evil twin from another dimension?" he suggested.

"Sorry, no such luck," she shook her head as a rogue rain drop fell into her eye.

Completely out of the blue, Merlin broke into a wide smile, "Hmm. I think I like you. Wanna go out some time?"

Shocked, Avarick exclaimed, "What did you just say?"

"I asked you out," he grinned.

"Why? I've been so foul."

"I like feisty girls."

"Y-you're sick!"

Merlin pondered this, "That may be true. Consider it though. You, me, romantic candle light. It would be stellar."

"Uh…" Avarick replied incoherently. Not caring that her face was slick with rainwater, Merlin leaned in close and pecker her cheek. Then, just as suddenly as he'd appeared, he wandered away.

For her part, Avarick couldn't figure out whether to be ecstatic or furious. One thing she did know was, she couldn't wait to tell her friends. She practically jogged back to the manor.

* * *

Conrad, Chauncey, and Benvolio were all sprawled out on their respective beds. Because of the rain, they had nothing really exciting to do with their weekends. Studying was out. None of them could stand the sight of another text book. They had considered apparating to some far off location, but it was too much work. Boys could be very lazy sometimes.

Chauncey, as always, had one thing on his mind, "What kind of girls do you like?"

Unaware whether he was asking them or the thin air, Conrad and Benvolio ignored him.

"I was asking a question," the redhead repeated irately.

"Oh. Well, what kind of girls do you like?" Conrad countered, even though he was confident he knew the answer.

"I like them curvy, with long hair and big eyes," Chauncey said dreamily, "Sweet girls are my thing."

Sadly, Chauncey had yet to find a sweet girl with such features that wasn't terrified of him. Instead he attracted violent sadists who were particularly fond of teaching him lessons. Too bad.

"I like sweet girls as well," Benvolio offered.

"And yet you like Valente," Chauncey replied scathingly.

Defensively, Benvolio said, "Harper is sweet."

"Unh hunh," Conrad rolled his eyes.

"Also, she's pretty."

Conrad smiled, "Can't argue with that."

"Are you involved with her?" Benvolio asked timidly.

"What? No!" Conrad was suddenly flustered, "Where did you get that idea? I told you were way, way over."

"Oh. Good," the brunette looked relieved.

"I think I like Avarick," Chauncey said suddenly.

"We know," the two other boys chorused.

"What about you, Conrad?" Benvolio asked.

"I like a girl who can keep me on my toes. Someone who makes me laugh…" he trailed off.

* * *

It was in a dark alley after midnight that Dirk found himself cornered. The sprite-like brunette had the tip of her wand pressed against his throat. His was lost somewhere in the gutters of London. Dirk knew that he had agreed to pass the investigation on to Casey and Noah. Still, Gelliston had once been his friend too. And, not that he'd tell his blushing bride, but Bobby Stone wasn't the only one who'd hired him. He still had some Slytherin pride, after all.

Dana would kill him when she found out; if Gelliston didn't Avada Kedavra him first.

With a pretty smile, she purred, "Dirk, it's been such a long time."

"Too long, Prue," his voice came out muffled. Her wand was making an indent in his jugular.

"You didn't think I haven't been watching you, did you? I saw you following us. I'm good at seeing things," she informed him.

"I bet you are."

"See, I didn't mind you taking your little pictures. After all, I'm highly photogenic," she batted her eyes at him.

"I'm married, Prue," he told her.

"Phooey, that's no fun," she shrugged and said, "Oh well. Anyway, I didn't mind that. But I hear that you've shown Casey some pictures. I didn't give you permission to do that."

Dirk couldn't help himself. He snorted, "I thought you would want Hargrove to come after you, all knight in shining armor like."

"I don't need a knight Dirk. I can save myself," she grinned. Seconds later, he dropped to the cement. All his limbs were at odd angles, and Prue couldn't help but smile at her handy work.

"Dana's going to hate you. I've heard she's gotten pretty vicious," a clear voice said from the shadows. The redhead had been leaning against the brick wall, watching her friend.

Prue pouted, "What can she do to me, Sere?"

"I don't know," Serendipity replied, placing a hand on Prue's shoulder, "But you know the saying. Hell hath no fury…"

"Ah well. When the time comes to it, I can deal with her too."

The two women strolled out of the alley, Serendipity replying, "Yeah. Wanna get Chinese? I found this great restaurant near Diagon Alley. Is that cutting it too close?"

Prue narrowed her eyes, considering, "No. Not too close at all."

A/N: Short chapter, I know. Next Chapter- Prue and Casey meet up again, Ben and Harper talk, and Merlin and Avarick get a little closer. Plus, animagus transformation day has arrived!


	4. To the Children Who Inherit The Earth

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 4: To the Children Who Inherit Courage_

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Because Fishy drew me a picture of a short haired Harper on Deviant Art. Wai! Everyone should go look, it's at divingsiren. and it's so cute. Found within: all sort of melancholy.

* * *

The night before they were to sit their animagus exam, Harper and her friends decided to get to sleep early. Her room was dark and comfy, without a trace of light or noise. This is why it was such a surprise to be awoken by a scraping sound and find a redhead leaning over her bed. It wasn't the redhead she normally expected, either.

"Professor Hargrove!" Harper gasped, "What are you doing here?"

Frantically, she looked at her slumbering roommates. However, Simone's nasal breathing and Avarick's slight snore had not ceased. Casey grinned and said, "I thought you wanted to be included in my business?"

"I do," Harper replied, flustered, "But where's Con-"

"Right here," a jovial whisper came back at her, "Ben and Chauncey almost tried to jinx him when he came in. For an auror, big bro is awfully loud."

"Shush you," Casey batted him away. Harper told them both to be quiet than clambered out of bed. She was wearing short cotton shorts and a thin tank top because she got cold when she slept. It didn't escape her notice that Conrad was staring, and it didn't escape Casey's that his little brother was practically drooling.

Dragging the taller boy away by the ear, Casey said amiably, "You change. But hurry."

Harper quickly shrugged off her shirt and shorts and tried out a much warmer ensemble consisting of jeans, boots, another tank top, and a dark coat. She snuck out of the room without waking Simone or Avarick. She just hoped one of them didn't wake and notice she had left.

"So," Casey looked anxious out in the daylight, but Harper waited like a good girl to see what exactly was going on, "We're going to apparate to this location."

He handed Harper a small square scribbled with a practically illegible address. It took her a minute to decipher it and then she exclaimed, "This is inside the Ministry!"

"Yes," he said slowly, "I doubt they'll approve of our taking trainees in…but, a promise is a promise. I doubt it will be too dangerous."

"What will be too dangerous?" Conrad demanded, "You still haven't told us what has happened."

Looking slightly abashed, Casey answered, "Serendipity Watson-Morgan, a friend of mine at the Ministry, happened to be working late tonight. She came across five shadowy figures torturing a man for information in this hallway. They've been there for five minutes. But it only took two for Serendipity to recognize Prue and get word to me. Lucky, it's down the hall from her office, so she has the floo network hooked up."

Harper and Conrad exchanged glances. Floo powder was awfully loud. What if the professor's friend had been heard?

"We really have to hurry," his voice was steady, but Harper noticed the way Casey's hand was trembling. A fine tremor seemed to have taken control of his arm. He led them out of the manor and onto the grassy stretch of hill just beyond its rambling porch. Professor Dusserre and Professor Weslen were waiting impatiently, cloaks wound tightly around their forms.

When Professor Dusserre saw Harper and Conrad she said sharply, "Casey, why are the children here?"

Harper wasn't sure if she appreciated being called a child, but she let it pass.

"Calm down Audra. We want them to become capable aurors, don't we? They won't get hurt."

Professor Dusserre snorted, "I was more worried about them failing their animagus test tomorrow morning, but okay."

"Ignore her," Noah advised, "She's grumpy when she first wakes up."

"I just don't see why I have to come. Two aurors and two trainees should be able to handle it."

"There are five of them, and we absolutely don't want any of them to get away," Casey retorted, "It would be very, very bad if any of them got away."

"Humph. Dark wizards," was Professor Dusserre's only grunted reply.

"Okay, you ready?" Casey asked Conrad and Harper. They nodded. Right after Casey, Noah, and Professor Dusserre, they apparated to the Ministry.

Technically, Harper had only ever visited the Ministry of Magic once. Even that time, with her friend, she hadn't paid much attention. The slippery marble floors and gilded walls were a little too much for her. The part of the Ministry she found herself in now was no different. The floors were so highly polished that she could catch glimpses of her wan face even in the dim light. Torch fires flickered in grotesque gargoyle holders on the wall. She thought she'd apparated to the wrong location until she caught sight of Casey. Professor Dusserre, Noah, and Conrad were nowhere in sight. More so, she only saw one of the horrible five dark wizards she was supposed to see. He had short blonde hair, a scruffy face, and a rather fancy metallic blue button down on, like he'd just come from a party. He had Casey pinned against a wall, his wand pointed straight at the professor's chest.

Before Harper could stop herself, she exclaimed, "Professor Hargrove!"

It wasn't like the man hadn't heard the loud crack of her appearing, but still he turned his large blue eyes on her. Then, going back to Casey he rubbed his eyes with one clenched hand.

He looked at Casey like he was a ghost, but when he spoke, his voice was steady, "So, it's Professor now? How quaint."

"I'm an auror," the redheaded man growled back.

"Oh. Well, that's sweet," the man decided, "Now be quiet. I'm trying to think what to do with you."

"Excuse me," Harper felt kind of confused. While this man was obviously dangerous, he hadn't made any sort of move towards her. Probably because he realized Casey was stronger, but shouldn't he at least acknowledge her? She looked towards Casey to see if she should attempt some sort of jinx. After all, his reflexes couldn't be that fast, could they?

"Don't try anything, girl," the man said shortly, without looking at her, "I am that fast. Faster than your good Professor, at any rate."

"Where's Prue?" Casey asked the man. He reeled back, acting surprised.

"Ah. Of course. No greeting for me, straight to business you are sir."

Apologetic, Casey said, "Good to see you again Frank."

"I go by Henry now."

"Why Henry?"

"I like the name Henry," the man Casey had called Frank shrugged, "Why am I constantly having to defend that name? No one makes fun of Precious or Ellie."

Hesitantly, Harper offered, "I think Precious is a stupid name."

"Thank you," Frank declared triumphantly, then his face fell, "But she didn't choose it. Elanore did. Man, I never catch a break."

Harper had decided this would be a good opportunity to attack the blonde man, but Casey saw her reach for her wand and shook his head. He wanted to keep Frank talking, at least until he reached his real objective.

"I guess I can bring you to Precious," he scowled, "Our game wasn't any fun. Poor man passed out on us. She, Ellie and the shrimps are waiting for him to wake up again."

Frank released Casey, who swore he'd behave and even handed over his wand to the blonde man without any argument. Harper frowned. He must really want to see this Prue chick. It was kind of romantic in a sick, twisted way. She told Frank so when he demanded her wand as well, and that she wasn't going to hand hers over to fulfill her Professor's weird necrophilia dreams. That made Frank laugh and Casey glare. She hoped it didn't affect her grades if she made it out of this. Harper just thought it would be wise if one of them had a wand.

It turned out that the dark wizards and the remaining professors were gathered in a hall parallel to the one they'd been in. Conrad wasn't there, both Casey and Harper noticed with some relief. A petite girl with bobbed black hair and ruby red lips was straddling a man who looked completely knocked out. She met their arrival with a malicious grin. Two tall, lanky boys had the two professors cornered and evil smiles on their faces. One had dark hair that curled around his ears and the other's was wild and oragnish.

"Oy," Frank called as they approached, "Who you got there? You'll never believe who I've found."

His obvious pride at his discovery was completely overrun by the small Asian girl's words, "Henry, we're here to do a job, not baby-sit aurors. As soon as Precious gets here, we can decided what to do with them. The busty brunette's starting to annoy me," Harper had to stifle a giggle as the woman jerked a hand towards Professor Dusserre, who was spouting some pretty imaginative expletives.

"Ellie, is that any way to greet an old friend?" Frank demanded pompously.

"What old friend? Noah Weslen was no friend of mine, and I don't know this obnoxious hag," the dark haired woman wrinkled her nose.

Immediately, Frank lowered his wand and said wondrously, "Noah?"

"Oh," the woman grimaced, "I forgot. Down boy."

Frank ignored her and rushed towards Professor Weslen. Making his way through the two boys, who generously gave him a bit of room, he stared at the professor. Harper had noticed the way this man liked to stare. Before he had taken in Casey's face with casual interest, and had sort of studied hers, as though every secret she had lay in the contours of her cheekbones. However, when Frank looked at Noah, his face transformed. He looked like a man who had been without water for too long, and the planes of Noah's face were water. For the first time, Harper really looked at her teacher. His auburn hair was shaggy in some places; a little wild. His eyes were narrow and the darkest of blues, but there were laugh lines in the corners. He had browned skin and at this moment, his lips had gone slack.

For all of Frank's studiousness, Noah was observing the blonde back. There wasn't a detail that escaped his trained auror's eye. Disgusted, the dark haired woman scoffed, "Warren. Salem, let Frank take Mister Weslen to somewhere more private. I so do not want to watch this."

Harper and Casey stood side by side. He had a small smile on his face, but she could tell he was on his guard. Leaning in close, he whispered, "Have you seen Conrad?"

She solemnly shook her head. Harper was worried. Even though she'd been witness to Frank's touching reunions, her mind still knew the score. That woman was sitting on a man who might potentially die, and those two boys were pointing their wands straight at her Charms Professor. These people didn't seem smile-worthy to her. They seemed dangerous. Professor Hargrove still didn't look too worried. That was another thing. Neither Frank, nor the dark haired girl seemed to care whether they just apparated away. In fact, since he'd abandoned them, Harper and Casey had every opportunity to escape.

Frank led Noah down the hall, even though Harper didn't think that was wise. Casey tried to strike up conversation with the dark haired young woman, "Elanore, are you going to keep ignoring us?"

"My name is Ellie," the woman snapped, "And who are you?"

She finally took a good look at Harper and Casey. Finding Harper in no way worth her time, she searched the redhead's face for a trace of familiarity.

"I don't look that different, do I?" Casey asked jokingly.

"Casey Hargrove," Elanore drawled, "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"Gee, I'm hurt," he scratched his chin, "I thought we were friends."

"I have new friends now," Elanore smirked, "You wouldn't like them very much."

"Hmm, don't suppose I would. So, where's Prue?"

Appearing slightly nauseous, Elanore said, "And you're still stuck on her. That's pathetic."

"I think its romantic," the brunette boy holding Professor Dusserre commented, "How long has it been?"

"Ten years," Elanore rolled her eyes, "You don't see me whining about my old exes."

"Joshua misses you," Casey interrupted.

Even though Elanore's face never changed, she didn't come back with a witty reply either.

It could have been minutes later, even though it felt like hours, that someone new came around the corner. At first, Harper thought it was Frank and Noah, or worse, Conrad. Instead, it was the familiar young woman with long, sandy hair. She had a bounce in her step as she rounded the corner, and she cheered, "Ellie! So what Mister Creswell said checks out. You wouldn't believe these corridors. They're worse than the Romanian Ministry's. And I thought vampires were supposed to carve out the best tunnels. Well, I found it though, the-"

She looked surprised when she saw the two boys who had trapped Professor Dusserre. By now they had shut her up with a silencing charm. Elanore had recommended Casey and Harper leave, or occupy themselves, so both had decided to sit cross legged on the cold ground. Harper felt kind of disappointed. She'd expected a dramatic fight scene; volleying hexes across the dark Ministry halls.

"Is it always like this?" she'd asked Casey.

"Hardly ever," he replied good-naturedly, "Special circumstances."

Harper had known what he meant. He wouldn't get the bad guys until he saw the one he wanted most. Now, here she was. Her emerald eyes widened and she said, "Guests?"

Casey gasped. At the noise, the woman's eyes darted towards him. She didn't take any time at all before her eyes widened even more with recognition, "Casey?"

Casey blinked. It was something he'd dreamed of for ten years. Even though he'd seen the pictures and heard the stories, he still had entertained the constant doubt. Every night since Noah had told him, he'd been haunted by the fear that it had been a lie. And if it hadn't been a lie, then how? And why?

Now the evidence was standing right before him. Frank and Elanore had been distant memories for him. Their faces had been slowly but surely erased by time until he only had blurry images of what his friends had once looked like. The sharp tongued woman and the scruffy looking man hadn't really been real for him. Prue, however, was Technicolor real. It was funny, but even though she was ten years older than the last time he'd seen her, she looked young. Actually, for a second he thought her the Prue of his first year at Hogwarts, with her long brown hair and her shy eyes. The plaid skirt she was wearing at the moment didn't really help.

Prue blinked. Then she turned to Elanore, "How did he get here?"

"The usual way I suppose. He apparated, dummy," the dark haired woman scolded.

"Oh. Well, isn't it a little anti-productive to have aurors here?"

"I thought so too, but Henry," here Elanore emphasized the name, "disappeared with one of 'em."

"Why would you let him do that?" Prue wondered.

"It was Noah. As if I could have stopped him. Men," Elanore frowned, "You know, I don't think Mister Creswell plans on waking up."

"He has ceased to be useful," Prue agreed, "You want to, or shall I?"

Casey was hurt. This wasn't how he planned his touching reunion. It wasn't anything like he'd imagined. Especially when seconds later, Elanore motion for Prue. Gracefully, Prue killed the man Elanore was straddling. It all happened before Casey had a chance to process it. When he finally did, he realized that Prue had just killed a man, and that she was now marching towards his student.

"Valente, apparate," he hissed before she got too close. Obediently, Harper did so. Prue made no move to stop her.

"Please, like I'm interested in her," Prue purred, "I won't kill you or your little friend, either. Take her away boys."

The two boys each took hold of Audra and dragged her down the hall, "She'll be delivered by floo right back to Willowcrest. See, I'm a nice girl."

"Prue," Casey managed. Her eyes had turned cold as ice.

"By the way, Casey. Have you found Dirk's body yet?"

And suddenly, his limbs felt frozen.

"What?"

"Dirk. I killed him, you know. We let him follow us for a while. But, well. He got a tiny bit too close," she shrugged.

For the first time in his life, Casey wanted to raise his wand at Prue in honest. Except Frank had taken it. Why oh why had he assumed that they would all be harmless.

"You want to hit me, don't you?" Prue whispered harshly in his ear, "Why don't you?"

"I won't hit you, Prue," Casey replied furiously.

"Do it," she commanded.

"Absolutely not."

"Do it," she ordered again.

"No."

When she asked a third time, he did it. He had never hit a woman in his entire life. He had never thought he'd hit Prue. Her head jerked back. The corner of her mouth dripped a little blood. Still, she smiled and said, "There, don't you feel better?"

"Not really," Casey replied miserably.

"Some people are just never satisfied," Elanore said, "It's time to go Precious."

Before Casey could object, they were gone. He wandered the dark halls for about ten minutes before finding an office with a floo network. When he got back to Willowcrest, he did a head count. Audra was in bed, grumbling about being forced into the fireplace by two 'handsome but uppity' young men. She told him if he ever wanted another favor he could just stick his head in an oven instead. Harper was waiting in his office. But that wasn't the surprise. The surprise was his grinning little brother, who had managed to bring back a slightly distraught Noah and a completely immobile Frank.

Maybe this trip hadn't been completely worthless after all.

* * *

Harper had stumbled back to her room near seven in the morning. Even worse, she'd been met by an irate Avarick.

"Where were you?" The blonde demanded.

So Harper explained everything. She didn't leave out a single detail. Avarick had nothing to say except, "I told you to leave it alone, but…More importantly, why didn't you bring me?"

She hadn't said a word to her since. Their exam was barely an hour later. They walked to class in complete silence. Professor Dusserre was leaning against the blackboard, snoring softly.

After the entire class had been seated for ten minutes, Chauncey finally ventured over the Professor and shouted, "Fire!" in her ear.

Startled, the Professor snapped awake. When she realized what had happened, she had the decency to blush a little, but said icily, "Hargrove, that was completely unnecessary."

"Sorry Professor," Chauncey smirked and returned to his seat.

"Okay, I trust you all remember the steps of the animagus transformation. First, you must visualize the form you wish to take."

"Professor," whiny Phinny Kleinberg interrupted, "I still don't understand how we can visualize our form. After all, you have said that even if we imagine a certain animal, the chance that we will become said animal is almost zero."

"Kleinberg," Professor Dusserre shot him a hot look and advised, "If you have not grasped the concept by now, then you will fail miserably. Be creative."

Phinny looked properly chastised. Satisfied, Professor Dusserre continued, "The next step is to actualize. Become that which you are seeking to achieve. After that it is up to you to maintain your transformation. If any of you fail to transform completely or to hold your transformation for a period of ten minutes straight, you will fail. However, I expect to end today's class with ten fully qualified animagi."

The class tittered nervously. Professor Dusserre gave them a few minutes to gather their thoughts and then announced in a throaty voice, "You may begin."

Harper anxiously squeezed her eyes shut. In her mind she repeated over and over again, 'visualize, and then actualize. Visualize, and then actualize.' She had thought long and hard about what kind of animal she'd like to be. Even though she knew her chances of achieving what she wanted were slim to none, Harper still hoped. She really wanted to become some sort of flying animal, like a hawk or an eagle. Of course she didn't expect something that cool, but maybe a sparrow, or even a pigeon would be okay.

In her mind's eye, Harper pictured a great golden eagle. Its feathers glinted in the sunlight as it spread its majestic wings. How amazing flying must be. Minutes passed, and nothing happened. Even though she knew she wasn't supposed to look around to see how her classmates were doing, she peeked.

At first, she thought she was in a zoo. A small, fluffy creature with gray hair and familiar black markings was shying away from the windows, where Zillah had been sitting. Oh, it was a raccoon. Zipping overhead was a dark creature. Not a bird, but a bat, her mind whispered. Perched atop the metal cabinets at the back of the room was a magnificent tawny owl. Jealously, Harper wondered who that might be. Then she saw the narrow eyed hawk chasing the bat around and became even more envious.

The only people that hadn't transformed yet were her, Avarick, and Simone. Seconds later Simone's body disappeared, only to be replaced by the largest white mare Harper had ever seen. Well, that was inconvenient. Pretty, but inconvenient. Harper started to panic. What if she couldn't do it. She'd been trying so hard, and nothing had happened. Wasn't she visualizing correctly?

Avarick's eyes were squeezed tightly shut. She looked like she was sweating. Maybe she was nervous too. A small, red creature limped up to Harper and nuzzled her hand. Harper glanced down, observing the red-orange fur, the big bushy tale, and the deep blue eyes. She bent down and whispered in awe, "Conrad? You're a fox."

The fox jerked it's head towards a completely identical creature that had worked its way over to Avarick. Harper giggled, "Is that Chauncey? How'd you become the same?"

In reply, the fox licked her cheek. She giggled again. Suddenly she didn't feel so apprehensive. Again, Harper closed her eyes. This time, she didn't visualize a hawk. She didn't visualize anything at all. Instead, she just concentrated on what she thought it would be like to be an animal. Any type of animal, whether it had wings or paws.

And then, Harper felt herself become. It wasn't painful, really. Just strange. Her bones were sucked into each other, contorting and twisting to become new joints. Even before she was fully transformed, Harper knew this wasn't what it felt like to become a bird. Parts of her shrunk then elongated. Her nose jutted out in front of her. When she blinked, her eyelashes were long and elegant. And then, it was over. Harper raised a paw to see what she had become. Her ears twitched. Suddenly she could feel the air move over her skin, except her skin was fur and there was no wind in the room. She could smell Professor Dusserre's overpowering perfume, and the scent of the other animals was disconcerting. Still, it didn't bother the new Harper too much. She was too curious. Trotting over to the window, she tried to catch a glimpse of her reflection. Luckily, the day outside was murky and dark. Just like most other days at the Academy, actually. She pushed her snout right up against the window, fogging it up slightly. Staring back at her was a creature with large triangle ears and a sinister smile. It's fur was long and ranged from white near the belly, pale brown at the sides, to the darkest brown disappearing into black on the back. She was smaller than a wolf would be, but she definitely had some similar characteristics.

"You're a coyote," Professor Dusserre whispered in her ear. Harper turned sharply, but the Professor wasn't anywhere near her. She was all the way across the room. A coyote? Maybe it wasn't as good as a bird, but she felt fast, and strong. She felt more powerful than she ever had before. Perhaps this wasn't so bad.

Avarick had disappeared. Where she'd been standing was a tiny animal with brown fur and black markings. Pale blue eyes were the only remaining trace of Harper's friend. Harper explored the room for her remaining time. Holding the animagus transformation wasn't nearly as rigorous as Professor Dusserre had made it sound. In fact, it was rather easy. She spent a minute sneak attacking Simone from ever angle she could get to, until the gigantic horse finally gently kicked her with one of her hind legs. Gentle though it was, Harper felt her head connect with the metal cabinet rather hard. When Conrad padded over to see if she was alright, Harper decided it would be fun to tackle him. They rolled around on the ground, play wrestling up until Professor Dusserre cleared her throat.

"Okay, it is time to lose the transformation."

Everyone became human again around the same time. Almost all of them were grinning from ear to ear. Professor Dusserre produced a green leather bound book and said, "Congratulations. You all passed. Now, I'd like to mark down the details of your transformations here. I'll bring it to the Ministry later. Can't have any unregistered animagi running around, can we? Line up."

Phinny was first, and Professor Dusserre said, "Hmm, Phinneas Kleinberg. You're nineteen or twenty?"

"Um," Phinny blushed, "I'm eighteen. Born in August."

"Alright. Eighteen, then. Born in August, transforms to a possum."

Harper didn't recall seeing any possums, but Professor Dusserre clarified the matter, "I've never seen anyone quite so adept at hanging upside down from the doorframe."

"The sun was hurting my eyes," he reddened even more.

"Next," Professor Dusserre said, "Zillah Carew. Transformation was a raccoon. Your age and month of birth?"

"I'm nineteen," Zillah said coolly, "I was born in May."

"Right then. Twins- I mean Hargroves. You were both Foxes. Lets see, let me write your names. Chauncey and Conrad Hargrove. Okay, same?"

"We're twenty," the boys chorused, "And our birthdays are in November."

"Valente, you were a coyote…"

"I'm nineteen. I was born in October," Harper said, startled to find she had vocal cords again.

"Tyler, I know you're nineteen. Your birthday is in July…and you were an ocelot."

Avarick nodded happily. Professor Dusserre continued on through the list. The owl had been Benvolio, and the hawk was Merlin. The bat was Eranthe.

At lunch, no one could stop talking about their transformation or what it felt like to become their respective animals. Chauncey, Conrad, and Harper were all of the opinion that being of the canine family was amazing, although Harper allowed Benvolio to extol the virtues of flying. Avarick insisted that it was best being feline, and Harper had to admit she certainly had the prettiest transformation. She still remembered those pale blue eyes. She wondered what part of her own human persona she retained as a coyote.

* * *

Casey pulled a chair up to the bed. The metal legs scraped against the wooden floor. Frank was sitting cross legged on the tan comforter, leaning against a wall. Noah was at the desk, coolly observing the entire scene. They were in Noah's room. To tell the truth, Casey didn't want to know what Noah had been doing all night. The man hadn't made it to teach his class that day, and when Casey had knocked on the door Noah had answered red cheeked and disheveled.

Now, Casey straddled the chair backwards and thought about what to say next, "Has Noah questioned you yet?"

"No. We don't really use words to communicate," Frank grinned. Unlike his sixteen year old self, this older Frank was not shy about sexuality. Apparently, being dead made you more confident.

"Do you mind if I ask you some?" Casey asked, suddenly finding the need to fumble around in his pocket for a pack of smokes. Noah, watching carefully, tossed him a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. Sighing with relief, Casey tapped out a cigarette and lit it. He puffed once before continuing.

"I don't mind," Frank said coyly, "Only if I can ask you a few questions as well."

"I might not answer," Casey warned him.

"Fair enough."

"Have you been alive all this time?"

"No. We were woken around five years ago."

"Who woke you?" Casey asked.

"Gradaver Moerte, of course. I heard that once they found our bodies, my parents wanted to cremate me? Good thing they didn't, hmm. Although Gradaver has said that there was still a significant amount of decay that he had to repair," Casey shuddered when he said the word decay, but Frank didn't look phased.

"How did he wake you up?" Casey said shakily.

Frank paused, "Can I have a cigarette too?"

Casey handed him the package and the lighter and waited for him politely. Once Frank was smoking contentedly he spoke, "I'm not really sure. I got to watch him wake Ellie and Prec- Prue. And I still have no idea how he did it. There was a ceremony involved, and words in Latin. I think I was too much in shock. For me, I'd just woken up as though only a minute had passed. It felt like seconds before I'd seen the green light of the Avada Kedavra coming at me. And then, there I was. My body was sore, and my skin felt raw, but I was okay. I was alive. Then, he took me to Elanore's grave. When I saw her tombstone, I think I realized that I hadn't survived. That somehow, I wasn't supposed to be standing."

Noah's eyes widened, but he said nothing. The old Noah probably would have gone wild, tackling Frank to the bed to try to make him feel better. However, the new Noah was observing. He saw the way Frank was speaking. Unthawed, like ice.

"Can you tell me exactly what Gradaver did?" Casey pressed.

"Well, I can tell you with Prue. I was too much in shock with Elanore. He did some sort of ceremony. The box they'd put her in sort of rose out of the dirt. The lid flew open. Obviously he was doing it all with nonverbal spells. It was weird though, I don't think he even had a wand. Then again, it's Gradaver."

As if this said everything, Frank continued, "Prue was…well, I think I might have screamed had he not given me this look. They'd laid her out in this white dress. I don't think I'd ever seen her wear this kind of dress her whole life. Her hands…they'd kind of…shriveled, I guess. And there was this part of her cheekbone that was all exposed. It was as if her skin had sort of collapsed in on itself. At least there were no bugs."

Casey was having a hard time continuing after the alarming visual he just been presented with. He'd seen a lot as an auror. Still, the idea of the girl he'd loved so much laying exposed like that…Suddenly, his mind cut in. Calm down, he told himself, she's a murderer now.

"Again, with the nonverbal spell, he fixed her skin. I think he poured a sort of poultice over the length of her body. And then, when the flesh had tightened and filled out, she opened her eyes."

"Just like that?"

"Well, the thing was, even when he first opened the coffin and she lie there rotting, I saw…she was breathing. Her heart was beating. It was the first ceremony that awakened her. Don't worry though, I doubt she felt anything until he fixed her body. I didn't."

"Frank- is it okay if I still call you Frank?"

Frank snorted, "Well, you certainly can't call me Sean Franklin. And Henry…well, Gradaver believes that giving out your real name to people before or after your death gives them a sort of power. He told us that whenever we introduced ourselves to potential recruits that we should make up fake ones. After a while, it was like we forgot our real ones."

"Why are you so willing to tell me all of this? Why did you let my little brother sneak up on you? I mean, you've been a wizard for seven…wait, six, years longer than him. And I'm sure Mister Moerte has given you some pretty intensive training."

"Well, you're my friend. And Noah is Noah. To tell the truth, none of us like it. We don't want to work for Gradaver. But…he can kill us. And while none of us is too keen on dying, we weren't too keen on killing at first either. However…we're not scared of Gradaver killing us as killing the people we care about. Not only you guys, but everyone we've worked with. Those two boys with us, all the people we've recruited. We like them. I guess you think its strange, preferring killing thousands to killing the few. But you get used to it."

Casey wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to it.

"Trust me," Frank inhaled deeply, "We've tried to get out. Every time, someone dies. Every time, we lose more. Also…I hope you don't mind that I called you my friend. I hope you don't think it's too odd that I still love Noah, no matter how much he's changed. Ten years…you have to understand, we couldn't tell you that we were alive. But we've been watching you."

"I don't think it's strange."

"I wonder if it's because we all loved you guys so much when we were alive. You are the only link to the old us that we have in death."

After a moment to collect his thoughts, Casey asked, "I sort of have the gist of what your organization is trying to do, but can you tell me in your own words what Mister Moerte wants? He is the leader, correct."

Frank chuckled, "Oh, he's the leader alright. And Durga- Jasminder Shah, remember her? She's his princess. He was working with the hags of the forest that night we died. But Gradaver might be a bit of a pedophile. As soon as Jasminder grew into her curves, he dropped his so called lovers and whisked her away. And he wants what every super villain does. Power. Supreme power."

"If he wanted power, why wouldn't he just start randomly attacking people? Instill fear in the hearts of the people and all that?"

"Gradaver's a strategic thinker. He wants to be sure of all his bases before he plays the game. Naturally he plans on a killing spree; once he's sure that no one can stop him. Gradaver is not Voldemort. He's smarter, cleverer. If he gets bored, he goes to the countryside and has a little fun with the locals. If one of them turns up dead, no ones the wiser."

"That's sick," Casey shook his head.

"That's life. For me, anyway. I've been doing this so long I don't know what good is anymore. I guess that's why I let your brother catch me. That and," here Frank looked embarrassed, "I was so absorbed in seeing Noah up close for the first time since forever. I kind of got surprised."

Noah grinned.

"It's late. Do you plan on leaving?" Casey asked suspiciously. Even though they'd taken Frank's wand away, he still had the magic in him. If he wanted to, he wasn't heavily guarded. He could leave at a moment's notice.

"Why would I? I'm surrounded by aurors. Here, I'm finally safe from Gradaver. At least momentarily. It's like I've finally reached heaven."

Casey pondered Frank's words as he made his way to his room. Even though his friend was a murderer, Casey couldn't hate him. Perhaps being an auror had made him numb to death. Or perhaps it was because he hadn't actually seen Frank kill anyone. Or maybe it was the complete and utter remorse the man showed. At any rate, he couldn't help trusting him.

"This makes no sense," Casey banged his head against his door, "We're being reckless."

Even so, Casey knew as he opened his door that they wouldn't stop. He sighed, he'd have to figure out a course of action in the morning. Soon enough, they'd have to send Frank to Azkaban. That could wait, for a while.

Casey stopped short. A slight movement in the direction of his bed alerted him to someone else's presence. There, with a bruised cheek and a chipper smile, sat Prue. She was dressed in a nice black dress with red trim, and looked perfectly content with herself. It was like she'd never killed that poor man last night.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Casey growled.

"Aw, I'm kind of hurt," Prue batted her eyelashes, "Come on Casey, don't be sore with me."

Casey marched up to the bed, ready to throw her off, but she grabbed his wrist, "I just want to talk."

"You've had ten years to try to talk to me. Five," he corrected himself.

"Oh. So you do have Frank," Prue smiled, "That saves me from asking that question."

"He doesn't want to leave," Casey said as she pulled him down to sit beside her. His wand was in his back pocket. It wouldn't be too hard to get.

"I won't make him," Prue grinned. In the light, he could see how age had matured the angles of her face. Her cheeks were thinner, all of the baby fat she'd once had was absent. Wispy bangs fell into her eyes. She sat much straighter than she used to. The Prue he had known slumped, like a boy. This one looked like little miss manners.

Disgusted with himself, Casey said, "I think you should leave now."

"Why?"

"Because I can't look at you without seeing that poor man you killed."

Silent for a moment, Prue then said, "I guess that's your right."

The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her face. For an instant, she looked sad.

"I don't know you Prudence."

"Don't call me that," Prue snapped.

That was when something in Casey's heart broke. He'd heard that phrase so many times, over and over again. For the most part, he called her Prudence to annoy her when they were in school. Secretly, he had kind of liked the name, because it was hers. When she'd died in his arms, he'd called her name over and over again, and she'd never answered. This was the 'don't call me that' he'd been waiting for.

So even though he hated her right now, and even though he knew it was wrong, Casey threw his arms around her. She tumbled back onto his bed, the black comforter contrasting her light hair.

"I really fucking missed you," Casey mumbled into Prue's hair.

"Casey," Prue mumbled, letting her guard down, "Goddess, I've missed you too."

They lay like that for a while, holding each other tightly. Finally, Casey couldn't contain his emotions. Everything he'd thought before he seen her kill that man, everything he'd suppressed after his horror at witnessing it spilled forth.

"Why didn't you tell me? Prue, I'm not mad anymore. I just have to know why?" he realized he was crying. Casey Hargrove, badass auror, was crying over a girl. But it was okay. Prue wasn't just any girl. She was THE girl. She always had been. He couldn't even remember how he'd made it this long without her.

Prue shifted, "Don't. I can't explain it to you. I had no choice, and I still have no choice. I wanted to tell you."

Defiantly, Casey pulled back and looked her straight in the eye, "Then do it."

Resolutely, Prue turned her head and said softly, "Fine. If I'd told you, if you'd known I was still alive, would you have stayed away from me? Would you have promised never to talk to me again, and pretended I was still dead to you?"

"No, don't be silly. I would have wanted to be with you."

"Exactly. You would have wanted to meet me again and again. And you're you, so I would have given in eventually and agreed. And then Gradaver would catch us. And then he'd kill you, or worse."

"That's the only reason?" Casey asked skeptically, "You were scared for me? Prudence, I know a little danger wouldn't stop you."

"Don't call me that," she snapped again. Casey felt warm just hearing it, like his heart was melting, "And you don't know me anymore."

"That's not true," he said gently, even though he knew it was.

"It is. You don't know me, or what I've done. And I don't know you!" the last part was practically a yell. She pushed out of his arms.

Startled, Casey asked, "Prue?"

"Five years, Casey. I was…dead for five years. The first thought I had when I came back was you. Gradaver…he's sadistic. He abused us for practically a year, and still I thought of you. So he thought it would be fun to take me on a trip. He'd told me over and over again that you had forgotten me, and I kept telling him it was a lie. I told him you'd never forget me. I…thought barely a year had passed. At that point my body was already twenty three, but I thought I was only eighteen. He showed me a mirror and it didn't work. I had Elanore and Frank and Jasminder as models, but I still didn't get it."

She was ranting, and crying, and continued, "So we went to London. You were an auror."

Casey tried to think what he'd been doing when he was twenty three or twenty four. He couldn't remember.

"I watched you for a week. When I first saw you, I thought so what? You were a little older, but not much. The time…goddess, the time that had passed seemed like nothing. Then I watched the way you talked to your friends. To your brothers. To your girlfriend," she practically spat the last word, "And I realized that you had changed. You were an auror. With a life. And you looked so happy! Yeah, I didn't want to fuck that up- on the off chance that you still would want me. But also…I didn't want to walk up to you and not know who you were. I didn't want to walk up to you and not have you know who I was. Because Casey, I'm still a stupid little high school witch, but you're the big bad auror now."

"I would have known who you were," Casey said quietly.

"But you grew up. And I didn't," Prue cried.

"That doesn't matter. I've told you a thousand times, Prudence. I love you, forever I love you. I won't deny that I tried to forget you. But you know what?"

"What?" she sniffed as his arms wrapped around her trembling shoulders once more.

"My girlfriend then? I think I dated her for upwards of three years…I can't even remember her name. But every single day I remembered yours. There was a single night I didn't dream of you."

"You're being corny," she chided, but he could tell she was still hurting.

"I'm telling the truth. Do you know how hard you are to forget? I gave up even trying. There wasn't a single girl I was with who I didn't compare to you. And in comparison to you, they never did well. I have never, ever stopped loving you Prue."

"Liar," she bit her lip.

"I'm not lying."

Prue choked out, "Casey, its okay. You don't have to convince me."

"No. Prue! You're my special person. You have no idea how much you mean to me. You're the most important person to me; you've changed me so much. You have no idea. You're a part of me."

"I don't know why, but I believe you."

"Mmm, hey, does this mean you're five years younger than me now? Are you mentally a twenty three year old? Because I dig younger girls," he joked.

Prue punched him lightly, and he kissed the tip of her nose in return. They stayed on his bed, wrapped in each others arms for hours.

When he woke up the next morning, she was gone. She'd taken Frank with her. Casey drove his fist so far into the wall that he reached the next room.

* * *

Even though Avarick had started to talk to Harper again, she was still angry. So when Harper and Conrad made their next move, they made Benvolio swear never to tell the blonde. Benvolio had an uncle who'd married into the family. He was a muggle, and he lived in America. From the few words Harper had caught, she'd been able to tell that those two boys, Warren and Salem had been American. They spoke like Merlin and Zillah did. So, even though the chances of Warren and Salem being their real names, she and Conrad sought out Benvolio. This uncle of his worked with an agency that tracked missing persons. Maybe they could narrow down the list from billions of people to a few thousand. Maybe even a few hundred.

"I could ask Uncle Drew," Benvolio said amiably, "I'm glad to be of help."

They were eating lunch outside, as it was one of the few rare sunny days at Willowcrest. Just as Benvolio opened his mouth to say more, Chauncey rushed up saying, "I got it, I got it!"

"Whoa," Conrad slowed his brother, "What did you get."

"The letter, from Aunt Shailly. The one we should discuss in private?" he looked pointedly at Benvolio and Harper.

"It's okay," Conrad said, "I think we can let them know."

"What's going on?" Harper asked suspiciously.

"We came upon Merlin in the hall last week. He said some pretty…well, racist things. He was all mudblood this, mudblood that."

Benvolio gasped at Chauncey's offensive language, but Harper and Conrad barely blinked.

"Are you sure it was Merlin?" Harper asked.

"Yes. And he completely fancies Zillah Carew."

"That cow!" Harper exclaimed, thinking of Avarick.

"Yeah, but listen to this. We had Aunt Shailly dig around about Merlin's family. Listen to this, his father, Alucard Pembroke killed five innocent bystanders with an Avada Kedavra curse while trying to fend off three aurors who wanted to take him in for questionable magic. Two of the aurors were also killed. Merlin was about nine, at the time."

"That's harsh," Benvolio responded carefully, "We can't judge Merlin by his father though."

"Not just that. His older brother, Warren Pembroke was found guilty of minor offenses causing injury to an entire busload of muggles, but before they could charge him for it, Warren disappeared. Also, it seems Warren had a whole string of misdemeanors charged to him when he was at Shimmercobble."

Harper and Conrad exchanged looks, "Did you say Warren?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He disappeared?"

"Mm, him and his best friend. Blystone…uh, wait, here it is. Salem Blystone."

Benvolio arched an eyebrow, and Harper and Conrad practically cheered.

While Conrad updated Chauncey on why exactly they were so happy, Benvolio leaned in close and whispered, "Hey Harper?"

"Yeah?" the dark haired girl turned to face him.

"D'you want to maybe sometime go out?"

"Go out? Like on a date?"

Benvolio half smiled, "Yeah, like on a date."

Harper thoughtfully replied, "Alright then."

They spent the rest of lunch on the porch, discussing the implications of what they'd just found out. Obviously, Merlin would have to be confronted.

"We have to fill in Avarick, too," Harper said grimly.

"We'll do it," Chauncey volunteered, grabbing Benvolio's arm.

"Why do I have to go?" Benvolio groaned.

"Because she'll hit me. She won't lay a finger on you."

Once they were alone, Harper turned to Conrad, "This is so exciting, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Conrad agreed. He was staring absently at the clouds, eyes tracing their fluffy shapes. He stood up out of the blue, and said, "I'm going to go find my brother."

"Do you want me to come?" Harper asked, surprised.

"No. You stay," he bent over, as if to whisper good bye in her ear. But then Conrad pushed his lips against hers. It was a kiss so light that Harper didn't even realize it was a kiss until it was over.

"What in the name of Circe was that?" she demanded, eyes wide.

Shyly, Conrad said to his shoes, "I don't know."

Harper swayed slightly as his eyes met hers, "Con…"

"Um, it was a mistake," he covered quickly, "I just leaned in too quickly, and I was really going for your cheek and…"

He did what any guy who is too flustered to defend himself does. He ran. Harper stared at his retreating back guiltily. Things were getting so complicated.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was supposed to be a little longer. However, I want to wait for what I was going to write for the next chapter. If any parts are confusing, please tell me so I can clarify in the next chapter! And any and all fanfare is per Miss Fish's demand. There shall be much more next chapter. Perhaps even some finger painting. 


	5. Don't Fall In Love

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 5: Don't Fall in Love_

_By: Jondy Macmillan _

A/N: Things are starting to speed up. I hope this chapter starts to clarify some things, but I think they shall only get more twisty. However, in other news the wonderful artist that is Miss Fish has decided to undertake the challenge of Manga100- to Giddy Brew/Poison Fairytales! I'm very excited. Feel free to put encouragement for her in reviews! (She needs encouragement and sometimes bribery to do her lovely art.) By the way, I realized I haven't been quite the proper author! I forgot to thank all the lovely readers who reviewed Giddy Brew! So here goes…

To all those who reviewed Giddy Brew, and to those who have or plan on reviewing Poison Fairytales, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Seriously, reviews inspire me, they cheer me up when I'm down, and they even make me smile and start typing when I'm in a slump. So please keep reading and reviewing- you've no idea how much I appreciate it. And to those of you who have put my stories on your favorites; you're my heroes. You know who you are, and you should totally get cookies.

* * *

Harper sat cross legged on her bed, head back, neck resting against the cool wall. She had tied her hair into two braids, and looked very much like an impetuous two year old.

"For the last time Avarick, I am so, so sorry. I didn't know they were going to go ruin your date with Merlin like that."

Three days had passed since the animagus test, and Avarick wasn't speaking to her yet again. After discovering the news about Merlin Pembroke's dubious beginnings, Chauncey and Benvolio had rushed to tell Avarick. Only, things hadn't gone quite as planned. They'd found the blonde in the midst of a steamy snog session with the one guy they never wanted to see again.

Apparently, Chauncey had jealousy issues and couldn't control his temper. He violently broke the two apart, demanding they discontinue their relationship. Avarick laughed in his face. Chauncey never did get the chance to explain after that. On the other hand, Harper and Conrad had visited Casey later that night to tell him the lucky news. Casey had absently told them they did good work, but that he was busy at that juncture in time.

All in all, nobody had gotten the reactions they'd desired.

"You should keep those boys on leashes," Avarick rejoined icily.

"They just didn't want to see you get hurt," Harper told her friend.

Avarick frowned, "You guys really think I didn't know about Merlin's family? I do read the news, you know."

"…Did you read the American papers when you were nine years old?" Harper asked faintly.

"Well, didn't everyone?"

It was at this point Harper found out that Avarick's parents worked for the International Branch of the Prophet and that she'd been up on the news for basically her entire life.

"I know everything about Merlin's family. But Merlin himself has never been in the news, has he now? You guys really shouldn't judge," Avarick simpered, "I bet you're just jealous because he's dating me."

"Ugh," Harper scowled, "I have enough boy troubles, thank you very kindly."

The blonde perked up, "Do tell."

"You forgive me now?"

"I'm considering. Depends how juicy the gossip is," Avarick smiled.

"Ben asked me out," Harper sighed.

"Old news. But you don't sound too happy about it," the blonde said shrewdly.

"I am! I was ecstatic!" Harper protested.

Avarick raised an eyebrow, "Was?"

"Am," Harper corrected. She could feel her face growing hot, "The problem is, Con…he kissed me. I think."

Flabbergasted, Avarick cried, "You think? Isn't that the kind of thing you know?"

"I suppose. But it was so quick. Really it was over before I knew it. And then he insisted it was an accident and ran away. That coward! He's been avoiding me ever since," angrily, Harper kneaded her knuckles into the pillow on her lap.

"Ah, the Hargrove brothers. Walking jigsaw puzzles in my opinion," Avarick sat next to the dark haired girl.

Turning to face her friend, Harper asked, "What do you mean?"

"For instance, Chauncey blew all those accusations in Merlin's face. The next day he acted like nothing happened. And then…well, he sort of confessed his love to me."

"What? I didn't know that!"

Avarick's face darkened, "He did the same thing as Conrad. He ran away right after. But it doesn't matter. I would never fancy a playboy like Chauncey. I see him eyeing Shilpa in town all the time. Plus, I've watched him ogle the older girls here. He's a git."

Both girls exhaled simultaneously, "Boys are stupid."

After a long pause, Harper started, "So Chauncey really confessed to you?"

"Er, well it was confession Chauncey style."

"Meaning?"

Avarick started playing with a red stone bracelet on her wrist, "Meaning it sort of went like this. He called after me, 'Hey Avarick, you want to go out with me sometime?'. And I said, 'Uh, does that mean you like me?', and then he said, 'Like you? You think there's a problem with my brain?'"

"Ah. That makes more sense."

The room flooded with light as the door thudded open, Conrad filling the frame.

"Speak of the devil and one of them shows," Avarick commented. Harper didn't reply. Conrad's face was almost as red as his hair, as though he'd been running for a long time.

"Harper," he panted, "We found his body."

"What? Who?" She gasped.

"Dirk Drake's," when Harper gave him a blank look, Conrad blurted, "My brother's friend. The detective Prue said she killed."

"Oh no," Harper said softly, "How's Professor Hargrove?"

"Not so good," Conrad scowled. True to his word, Casey had kept both aurors-in-training up to date on the situation with their long lost friends. Even though it had been hard on him, he'd filled them in on Prue's late night visit and morning disappearance earlier that morning.

"I can't believe that bint, messing with Professor Hargrove's feelings like that," Harper burst, "I don't care how sweet she was in her prime. She's pure evil. How can he love someone like that?"

"Love isn't really voluntary," Avarick offered up.

Conrad nodded his agreement, "Anyway, from what big bro says she didn't sound that sweet. In fact, she sounded kind of like you. A real fire cracker, if you know what I mean."

Harper wasn't sure if she liked this comparison, but said nothing.

"Where did they find the body?" Avarick asked, even though she didn't really know who the victim was.

"One of the marshes near the border of Wales," Conrad replied ruefully, gesturing to his mud caked pants, "We found him this morning."

"Wait a second," Harper exclaimed, "Why did you get to go?"

"You were sleeping," he shrugged.

* * *

The funeral for Dirk Drake was held in London. His widow cried few tears, instead choosing to stoically look at some far off point that none of the sympathetic mourners could see. Casey thought that perhaps she was reminiscing about the old days, when she and Prue opposed each other on the house Quidditch teams and Dirk was a snotty Slytherin. That's what he was thinking of when the poor dead man was interred. This wasn't grade school anymore. The odds had gone up way too high. Casey thought that back then they'd imagined life would be easy. The future had been bright on the horizon. Now the future was dark, and the past kept coming back to haunt them. They never should have left Hogwarts.

Three months passed with no news.

* * *

It was nearing Christmastime. Soon the Willowcrest students would be returning home for the holidays. Harper and Ben had their successful first date long ago, and had taken up a steady ritual of Friday night dates. Avarick and Merlin were in a state of pre-marital bliss. Simone couldn't stand to be in the room with either of her roommates; their exuding happiness was that nauseating.

A few days before the winter hols, Harper and Benvolio had one last date planned. She had dressed up for the occasion, even though they were just heading over to Nataraja for a snack. It was cooler than she'd expected, even though it was December. Harper's long, swishy purple skirt billowed around her legs in an unexpected wind. She scowled and put her hands against the fabric so it wouldn't blow up. She could feel the night's chill through her thin red cotton shirt, the black undershirt she wore providing little warmth. Sometimes she wondered why she preferred fashion to sensibility. Up ahead in the pathway, Harper glimpsed a familiar redhead with a ponytail, baggy jeans, a red flannel button down, and a brown leather jacket. Two silver chains glinted as they fell free from his pocket. He was smoking. It was a nasty habit he'd picked up from Casey. Harper was intent on making him stop. However, she was having trouble with it. Ever since that half-kiss incident he'd steadfastly stayed as far away as possible from her. After three months, it was taking its toll.

"Oy, Conrad!" Harper called after him, feeling suddenly self conscious in her fancy clothes. She couldn't recall a time when she'd even dressed up for him even all that time ago when they dated.

"What do you want, Harper?" he asked wearily.

"You berk, what do you think I want to talk to you about? Why the bloody 'ell have you been avoiding me?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

"I have not," he retorted, turning to face her. When he saw the way she was standing, he laughed.

Insulted, Harper asked, "What?"

"You look so funny. Why are you all dolled up?"

"Oh, nice clothes make me look funny?"

"That's not what I said. It's the nice clothes and the hair, and are you wearing make up?"

Reddening, Harper said, "I always wear makeup."

"Not like that, you don't," he informed her.

"Get stuffed and die," Harper crossed her arms, "Do I look that bad?"

"Nah, you look super cute," he winked. The three month absence was forgiven and forgotten, all in an instant. At least by Conrad.

Crossly, Harper demanded, "Then why were you laughing?"

He blinked, "I don't know. The face you make when you're mad makes me want to laugh."

"Oh, well then," Harper scowled. She thought the face she made when she was mad was intimidating. She'd have to work on it in the mirror. After all, angry faces were no good if they failed to scare the people you wanted to scare.

Realizing he'd driven her off subject, Harper said, "Hey! You prat. Why have you been avoiding me? Don't you start thinking I forgot."

"I told you, I haven't. You're imagining it."

Skeptically, Harper replied, "Con, when I waved to you in the Cafeteria yesterday you darted the other way. You've been treating me like I had the plague. Even when we all go out together you say about five words to me the entire night. Even Ben and Chauncey noticed it."

"We wouldn't want that to happen, would we?" the redhead responded bitterly, his jovial mood vanishing.

"Bloody- what in the world is going on with you Con?" Harper raked a hand through her hair, not caring that it was going to mess up all her finely arranged locks.

Suddenly, Conrad took hold of her wrist, "Harper, go out with me."

"Eh? Are you on drugs?"

"Drugs?" he gave her a strange look, "Is that a muggle thing?"

"Never mind that," Harper waved away his question, "Why all this all of a sudden?"

Conrad answered slowly, "It's not all of a sudden. We've been on and off for a long time. Over five years, isn't it?"

Harper nodded, "But didn't we agree that-"

"I don't care what we agreed," Conrad shouted.

"Um," Harper bit her lip.

"Look, I know we said that we'd cool off, be with other people. But is it really necessary? I know that I love you," he rambled, "and I think you love me too."

"You're wrong," she stated bluntly.

Startled, Conrad asked, "I am?"

"I don't love you anymore Con. I mean, I do, but as a friend. You're lucky you even get that. When I first came to Willowcrest I didn't plan on being friends with you anymore. I didn't want to speak to you ever again."

"I didn't know that," he murmured, a trace of anger showing on his face.

"Yes, well. Obviously you and Chauncey made that kind of hard for me. Even so, even if we're friends, I don't ever plan on starting a relationship again. I love you like a brother, Con. That's all," Harper was surprised. She'd been practicing that speech in her head recently, just in case things ended up being this way. The truth was, she was lying. Of course she still loved Conrad. But what she'd told Avarick that first month at Willowcrest was true. They were too young, and she needed time. She wanted to experience the world, to see what it was like being with other boys. She wanted to date a guy with whom she had absolutely no history. Ben was the perfect boyfriend. She enjoyed the time they spent together.

Conrad's face fell. Stricken, he said, "I- uh. Great."

"Con…"

"No, Harper, that's great. Look, have fun on your date with Ben. I definitely think you two make a cute couple."

"Con, this isn't about Ben," this time, she wasn't lying. Ben was great. But the Hargrove family seemed to have a special kind of charm Harper just couldn't tear herself away from.

"Sure," he practically spat venomously, "Sure it isn't. You've been all over him for the past three months."

"He's my boyfriend. Con," she tried again, even though she and Benvolio still weren't official. They'd been on enough dates and snogged enough times that she figured they should be. He was just shy.

"You know what? Maybe you had the right idea in the first place. Maybe we shouldn't be friends after all," Conrad said thoughtfully, "Maybe we're just not compatible."

"Don't be stupid," Harper laughed, suddenly worried.

"I don't think I'm being stupid at all. I'm going to go now. You know, you never dressed up like that for me," he observed, "But you look great. Good luck with Ben. I'll see you around. Oh, and here, you look cold."

Tossing her his brown leather jacket, Conrad started to walk away. Hurt, Harper called after him, "Con, you were kidding about not being friends, right? Right? Conrad?"

She never got any reply.

* * *

Harper met Ben at the restaurant right on time. Even though she'd taken all that time to look nice, the second she walked through the door Ben asked, "Are you alright?"

"I had a tiff with Conrad."

"You guys haven't been doing so well the past few months," he observed.

"I don't know what's gotten in to him," Harper lied. The brunette's face was warm and open, and so completely innocent. She felt bad deceiving him. He assured her that everything would be okay as Shilpa ushered them to their table.

They ordered food, then started one of their normal amiable talks. Recently in class they had been discussing why the fighting techniques and regulations for aurors were different for men and women.

"I think it's very sensible. Men and women have different body types, and there are some things that women just can't handle," Ben said.

"That's bull," Harper replied bluntly, "Especially in the wizarding world. You can't say a witch has less power than a wizard."

"Well, no. I meant physically."

"Physically, if a woman puts her mind to something, her body will be able to do it, just the same as any man."

Surprised, Ben informed her, "You're really passionate about this."

"Well, I decided to be an auror so I could become strong. I can't just be wishy-washy, even about my own feelings. Even if I have to stand on my own two feet completely alone, you'll see. I'll become the strongest auror of them all," Harper smiled ruefully, and added, "I hope."

"Don't hope," Ben took hold of her hands, "Know. If you know it will happen, it will happen."

"You're right," Harper said gratefully, "Sometimes I forget. I spend so much time having fun with you guys that my dreams get lost in the background."

"I know what you mean. I can't let anything hold me back. I won't let anything hold me back anymore," Harper pursed her lips.

Later on, Benvolio held her hand as they walked back to Willowcrest. They walked most of the way in silence until Ben blurted, "This is stupid, but it's been bothering me all night. Is that Conrad's jacket?"

Harper started. She'd forgotten she was wearing it, "Yeah. He said I looked cold."

Benvolio frowned, but said nothing. He didn't even kiss her when they parted.

* * *

There was a note on his desk that shouldn't have been on his desk. Still, Casey did what it instructed, if only to ease the anger he felt. She couldn't have apparated in. Only recently, the professors had put up the wards that were never necessary before. They'd double checked them thrice over. So she must have walked in, and that was scary.

The empty street was all too ominous. If an individual followed this side street a ways down, they'd reach the neon lights of Piccadilly Circus, where the people and noise would be overwhelming. Here, however, the pavement glistened with fresh fallen rain. Street lamps were so dim that the light they gave off was almost none, and the main source of illumination came from a nearby vending machine. Darkened storefronts promised sweet cakes with delicately elaborate frosting. The latest in couture trends were set upon shadow mannequins looming over deserted sidewalks. Some of the stores were strung with cheery Christmas lights that did little for the overall atmosphere of the street.

Prue was leaning against the entrance to an underground bar. She saw Casey, and her snow white heeled boots clicked against the cement as she walked over to meet him. Surreptitiously she glanced around. Only a few homeless rags and late night owls were about. Relieved, she said, "Hello, stranger. Been waiting long?"

"Only a minute," Casey met her smile with one of his own. He was sure her smile was just as fake as his was. He had his hands tucked securely in the rough denim of his back pocket. One fist was clenched around his wand.

"So…" nervously, Prue tugged at the hem of her white high collared trench coat.

"What did you want to tell me?" Casey tried to look as guileless as possible.

"I," Prue bowed her head, "I'm sorry for leaving you alone."

"That was almost three months ago, I'm over it," Casey shrugged.

Prue bit her lip. She didn't look anything like the confident woman who'd killed three men (that he knew of) within the space of a few weeks. This was the sobbing, confused murderess he'd held in his arms that night she'd visited him. He wondered absently if she had split personalities. No matter. He refused to care any longer.

"Look, I didn't act like that because I wanted to. I didn't force Frank to leave either. You don't understand, Gradaver has a certain amount of control over us. I won't deny that most of our actions are our own, but…sometimes we truly don't know what we're doing. It's those moments of clear headedness that make us regret…and those moments get rarer and rarer as time goes by."

Frank hadn't mentioned this that time. Casey paused, "You say you have no control? Like you're under the imperious?"

Prue looked into the face of his hope and shook her head, "No. It's like sometimes we're in a dream and it's not a voice in our head or a twitch in our arm that makes us proceed, but our own childish curiosity. It's when we're like that Gradaver will tell us to go on a mission, to kill somebody. And we're like children; we can't tell that it is wrong. It's like we're spoiled children who Gradaver has raised to think that bad things are good things, and vice versa."

"Almost like you're drugged," Casey whispered.

Prue smiled weakly, "Almost. When I'm with you, I can fight the fog that settles over my mind most of the time, but that morning, I was a kid. And I wanted to go home. I'm sorry."

Casey wondered if she was telling the truth. After all, there were certain potions that contained a limited amount of poison which could cloud your mind. Teenagers were known to use such things for fun. But it was impossible. All the ones he could think of would kill you after five years of use. Then again, was it even possible for Prue to die naturally?

"I didn't mean to kill Dirk. Dear goddess, I wanted to stop myself, but I couldn't. Is Dana okay? I heard they were married…I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Prue sobbed collapsing onto the street. Casey stared at her blankly. The wet concrete was seeping up her coat, staining the purity of the color. Perhaps that's why he finally, reluctantly extended a hand to help her up. He held her tightly in his arms until her body stopped trembling. He hated himself all the while.

"I know you didn't," he murmured into her hair, "I knew you wouldn't."

"Casey," she said softly, "Is it okay that I love you?"

"Mm," he replied, closing his eyes, "If I can love you back."

He was furious with himself. Why couldn't he just act? Prue tightened her hold on him. He felt her hands inching down his back. She was almost to his back pockets. Smiling against his neck, Prue looped her fingers into the pockets, within seconds gaining access to his wand. She drew it out of his pocket, but Casey saw.

He whispered harshly in her ear, "One of those moments?"

Roughly, he took hold of both of her wrists, kissing her hard. Prue resisted, trying to free herself, but Casey slammed her against the nearby vending machine, raising her wrists over her head. He ground his body up against hers and she moaned into his mouth, kissing him more and more frantically. Her wrists would bruise against his force, but it didn't matter.

"Casey," she gasped into his mouth, "You're hurting me."

He wrestled his wand away from her even as he took hold of her wrists with one hand, inching the other down the length of her body. She moaned with pleasure. He couldn't stop himself. All his fury had been channeled into this one moment. She didn't share his intensity. Abruptly, she broke free of his grip. She was stronger than he'd initially thought, "What are we doing, Casey?"

"What do you mean?" he asked incredulously, sure that it was obvious.

Innocently, Prue said, "I'm not used to…I mean…and I can't…well. Um, I gotta go."

"Prue," he called before she tried to apparate away, "Stop."

In his head, he was laughing. All his anger evaporated. She looked like a doe caught in the headlights. She slowly turned around, eyes wide.

"Prue, it's not like we've never…you know, before."

"We only did it five times," she said shortly.

Casey pondered whether it would be wise to tell her he'd never counted. He was a hopeless romantic, but sex was sex. And five times was a lot, wasn't it? At least in the short time they'd had together.

"Haven't you done it since?" He asked hesitantly. She shook her head. He hoped she didn't plan on asking him if he hadn't. Sure, he loved her like no other. Now that he knew she was there, he didn't plan on touching anyone else. Wait, where had that thought come from? Murderess, murderess, he chanted in his head as a reminder. He couldn't shake the thought. He really didn't plan on getting involved with anyone else. Not only did he love her, but he believed her?

He still couldn't tell her about the other girls though. At the time, he'd thought she was dead.

He was already planning this argument in his head when she said, "I haven't had time. I…well, there were a few times."

Casey swallowed. He wasn't prepared to hear about Prue's sexual expeditions, but for some reason his curiosity was overwhelming. Had she with Gradaver? With one of her young recruits? What was this morbid interest he impulsively felt? For some reason he felt…betrayed? But it wasn't like he hadn't done the same. Reluctantly he asked, "With who?"

Prue looked surprised. She obviously hadn't expected him to ask. While he examined the wet pavement, she cleared her throat. Slowly she spoke, "Once with Warren…but only the once because he's bi. He's really into Salem, but the git doesn't see it. I do though, so the next time Warren asked, I told him where to stuff it. And then Henry and I…I mean Frank and I…we tried once."

She blushed, "Tried, but discovered he really is…you know. I have the devil's luck with gay guys. Oh, and then a couple of times with Bobby."

Casey felt like he'd been slapped, "Excuse me? Bobby Stone?"

"Yes," Prue bit her lip, wondering what she'd said wrong, "Listen Casey. I didn't start out trying to find him. I just bumped into him one day in London, about a year and a half after Gradaver woke us up. I think it was one of the days he'd just taken me to see you. And then Bobby was there, and he knew me, and he was alive…Sorry."

Numbly, Casey mumbled, "I don't understand."

"He hadn't married Tisiphone yet. I was so surprised when they bumped into us in Romania. They were all spy like, and Bobby was acting like he hadn't known. I only got to speak to them for a minute, but I saw the rings on their fingers."

Bobby had lied. He said the first time he'd met Prue was in Romania. Okay, so maybe he'd known Casey would be furious to find out Bobby had been involved with Prue that way. Still, Casey was sure that the joy of finding out his girlfriend was alive would have overcome any of his more murderous impulses toward the blonde. He was a big boy, and the two had been involved at one point in Hogwarts. Casey had been able to handle it. Not well, but he'd dealt.

One thing was for certain. Casey had to talk to Bobby, and soon. Callously he asked Prue, "Who else?"

"What? That was the end of them, I think," she said guiltily, "I'm not a slut."

"No," he tried to smile, but couldn't quite do it, "Did you run into anyone else before that time in Romania? Anyone you knew?"

"No," Prue said, but from the way her eyes darted to the left, Casey could tell she was lying.

"Prue-" he started.

Before he could say anything though, Prue said, "Don't act so self righteous. It's not like you've never had any lovers since I died."

"That's true," he said gently, "I'm not mad at you, Prue."

Childlike, she asked, "You're not?"

"No," he mustered up a real smile this time, speaking to her as though she was a small child, "I'm mad at Bobby. He lied to me about something very important."

"Oh," Prue beamed, "That's all?"

"You make it sound like a small thing," he grumbled.

She sidled up to him, running a hand down his chest. His breathing grew faster just looking at her.

"So," she said thoughtfully, "If I have no reason to be nervous…do you want to go somewhere?"

Casey nodded.

They rented a hotel room out in Kensington. Even though Casey had wanted to opt for a closer locale, Prue had insisted that the area was too public, too open. She wouldn't consider Casey's suggestion of returning to Willowcrest if she wanted quiet, maintaining that she had to be back any minute and it was too far to apparate. However she never once said when any minute might be.

It wasn't an ideal room, but it would have to do. Prue laughed and talked animatedly the entire walk there. Never once did it look like the mysterious fog she'd spoken of would overtake her.

"I have an idea," Prue offered. She had laid her white trench out across the paisley comforter, and was seated rather unladylike. Actually, it reminded Casey of the old Prue, the way she had spread her long legs apart and was leaning most of her weight back on her palms. Never mind that he could see up her skirt.

Grinning, Casey asked, "And what might that be?"

Without any trace of a smile Prue replied, "Use an unforgivable on me."

"Beg pardon?" Casey hadn't expected that. Where had the vivacious young woman of minutes before gone?

"Use an unforgivable on me."

"Beg pardon?" Casey repeated, unable to wrap his mind around what she'd just said.

"Bloody- you heard me the first time, Hargrove," Prue snapped.

"Yes," he said slowly, "But I don't understand what that could possibly accomplish."

"At the times when my mind is fogged…at the times when I've no choice but to kill like it's a fun game…you can control me," she theorized.

"There's no way that could work," Casey informed her, "You mean the imperious, correct?"

When Prue nodded, he continued, "It takes an incredibly skilled wizard- or witch," he eyed her, "to allow the subject of the curse to have free will while still maintaining the effects of the curse. I wouldn't be able to turn it off and on at will."

"I think you could manage," the brunette said dryly, "But if not, you could take the curse on and off of me."

"That would require close proximity," he lectured, "Never mind a lot of energy. And anyway, I wouldn't be able to tell when you were in that state of mind and when you weren't."

"You would if you kept an eye on Ellie and H-Frank," she corrected herself at the last minute.

"I can't tail you night and day Prue. I'm a teacher," even as he said it, he felt rather stupid.

"Then get someone else to do it," she said thoughtfully, "One of your students?"

"They don't quite know how to perform that one yet, I think," Casey mused, "What about…oh, I don't know, Serendipity?"

"No!" Prue practically shouted.

"Um, okay," he bit his lip and thought long and hard. This job was dangerous. If Elanore or Frank ended up catching sight of whoever trailed them, there was a good chance that person would end up like Dirk. Sure, Dirk was a prat, but he didn't deserve to die. Especially not when he'd finally become a good man. For a second, Casey felt a twinge of regret that he had to help Dirk's murderer. Then he focused on Prue, and the sudden guilt and anger that had flared up died in an instant. If she was telling the truth, it wasn't entirely her fault that Dirk had died.

"I can't risk my students, Noah is in the same position as me, and Cerulean is just about the only other person I can think to ask."

"Doesn't he own a bookstore now?" Prue asked, interested.

"How do you know that?"

"Bobby might have mentioned it," she shrugged, "And that he was dating Orpheus."

"Tosser," Casey said automatically, not all that fond of his almost brother in law.

"You don't suppose I turned him gay, do you?" Prue wondered.

"Who? Cer? Nah. Well, I doubt it," Casey resolved to ask his brother this question one day, "The thing is, I don't think Cerulean would be able to handle using the imperious for long periods of time."

Prue bowed her head, trying to think of possible candidates. Sadly, she came up with none. But Casey had a stroke of inspiration, "I've got it. Joshua."

"What?"

"Joshua. He's a goblin liaison for the ministry. If we can convince him…it might be hard, but if he really does have any feelings for Elanore…"

Prue frowned, "Why would a goblin liaison have mastery of an unforgivable?"

Casey just smiled unkindly, "You'd be surprised. Not all of the goblins work with us willingly. The ministry, for all the good it does, has some rather nasty habits."

"Okay. So we ask Joshua," Prue said dubiously.

"Are you sure you want that?" Casey narrowed his eyes, "You want to lose your freedom?"

Prue brightened, "Oh, Casey. I haven't had freedom for a very long time."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. They parted near four in the morning, when Prue suddenly woke screaming from a bad dream.

"I have to go!" She scrambled out of bed, gathering her things.

"What? Prue, are you okay?"

"I- I'm fine," she lied. He could see in her eyes that whatever had woken her had her shaken. Still, he let it go. Quietly, he watched her dress.

Before she left, Prue said, "Casey? Next time you see me when other people are around, act like you hate me. In fact, it wouldn't hurt if you call me Precious."

"Fine," he shrugged, "But when it's just you and me, you're Prue."

"Always," she smiled sweetly. Seconds later, she was gone.

* * *

Christmas break was too short. Harper received several owls from Avarick, her scrawled lines gushing about the presents she'd received and how much she missed Merlin. She got one from Chauncey also; his usual bragging. However, she didn't hear a word from either Conrad or Benvolio. Tossers.

Normally, Harper hated being home. Yet this Christmas, something seemed different. Her mother was almost constantly at home. Grace Hawthorne-Valente was a beautiful woman with lovely dark hair that was tamed into elegant ringlets and the palest alabaster skin. Even though she spent most of her time at the local hospital where she worked as a pediatrician, she spent much of her free time and money on expensive makeup. Naturally, she was well groomed as a result. Still, she didn't normally this radiant.

The day before Harper was to return to Willowcrest, her mother sat down at their kitchen table and gestured she should do the same.

"What's wrong, mum?" Harper asked fearfully. They'd spent the day in amiable silence, lounging around with their hair tied in messy ponies and baggy sweatpants.

"Nothing!" Grace giggled, "Perish the thought. Actually, it just so happens that quite everything is right."

"What are you on about?" Harper demanded.

"Your father sent the papers in. We're officially divorced," Grace said politely, letting it sink in. Harper frowned. She didn't like her father all that much, but she also didn't see why her parents' split was a cause for celebration. Had her mother been sneaking meds from the hospital?

"The thing is, Harper, that I've met someone. A man. He's a sweet guy. I think you'll like him," Grace beamed.

Harper didn't really want to like him. Her mother's boyfriends had been a fact of life since she was five, way before the divorce. Sometimes she wondered if that habit had driven her father to drink.

"Super," Harper forced a smile.

Grace said delicately, "Only problem is, I haven't quite told him about your witch-problem."

Harper wasn't phased. Her mother had been delighted to know her daughter was a witch when the Hogwarts letter first came, but she didn't like to share with others. In private, her mother was proud, but in public, she claimed her daughter went to a prestigious boarding school.

"Don't tell him," Harper drawled, "I'm sure you'll break up soon."

"No dear," her mother replied gently, "Chestral has proposed to me."

Harper didn't know whether to laugh at the man's name or cry at her mother's news.

"Uh," she answered eloquently.

"The wedding will be at the end of your school year," Grace informed her daughter.

"Isn't that a bit soon?" Harper asked.

"He proposed to me this time last year."

"An entire year and you didn't tell me? Mum?" Harper was horrified.

"Don't worry, don't worry. He's a doll. You'll love him."

Harper wasn't so sure. She fretted about her mum's marriage the entire way back to Willowcrest. She couldn't wait to complain to Avarick and the rest of her friends.

As it turned out, Harper didn't get a chance to complain. Avarick had returned to Willowcrest a day earlier. She'd run to Merlin's room to greet her boyfriend, but found him engaged in a rather messy looking game of tonsil-hockey with none other than Zillah Carew. It seems they had finally hit it off over the hols.

"Aren't I supid?" Avarick sobbed.

"No, no," Harper soothed, "He's a slimy git."

"That doesn't make me feel better you know," Avarick managed between wracking sobs, "Just go on and say you were right. He's horrid."

"Not necessarily," Harper replied, trapped. If she said that she was right, she'd be an awful friend, but if she said Merlin was a good guy like Avarick had thought then she would be taking the wrong side.

Luckily, Harper was saved by Chauncey and Benvolio. They burst into the room with a cry of, "Happy New Year. Let's go eat. Hey, what's wrong with Avarick?"

Harper filled them in very quickly and managed to restrain Chauncey when he announced he was going to kill the bloody American prat.

"Why don't we just get food?" Harper suggested in a shaky voice. It had taken both her and Benvolio to hold the redhead back, and she was practically gasping for breath. Avarick had perked up slightly as she watched Chauncey come to her defense.

"Fine," he sulked.

* * *

Outside, there was snow on the ground. Harper was wearing a cap sleeved white and green striped button down. The collar stuck up above her cerulean sweater vest. She wore pastel green plaid tailored shorts, and blue flip flops. Green, yellow, and blue plastic bangles clinked on one wrist, while a large green and blue striped one sat high on her opposite forearm. Her long, dark hair curled gently near her breasts. Just for good measure she had wrapped a blue cashmere scarf around her neck, but it didn't help much.

"Why don't you start dressing for the weather, Harpy?" Chauncey demanded, shivering, "Just looking at you gives me chills."

"It wasn't quite this cold in London. Uh, where's Con?" she asked casually, changing the subject.

Ben dared an angry look in her direction. He had barely said a word to her when he came along except polite small talk. He was too well bred to outright ignore her like Conrad.

"He's not coming," Chauncey pouted, "And he wouldn't tell us why. Something about visiting Shilpa?"

"Our Shilpa?" Harper asked, surprised. Why would Conrad go visit the hostess of the Indian restaurant they were so fond of?

"I think so," he wrinkled his nose, "He was kind of vague."

"Why, you jealous, Harpy?" Chauncey slithered up to her and whispered in her ear. Harper haughtily shook her head in the negative. She liked Ben. Who cared what Conrad did? Well, Harper certainly didn't.

"Let's go," Harper marched away from Conrad's likeness, angrily wishing for once that the brothers weren't identical. It was hard not being mad at Chauncey, just for looking like Conrad.

"What did I do?" Chauncey wondered aloud.

"What don't you do?" Avarick demanded of the redhead, following Harper.

Chauncey cast Benvolio a wounded look, but the brunette just scowled, shrugged and wandered after the two girls.

"Absolutely nobody bloody respects me," Chauncey said to thin air. Realizing there wasn't anybody around to answer, he chased his three friends down the hill.

They decided on Nataraja, mostly because the other places in the village had yet to open up after the hols. Nataraja's strings of brightly colored lights welcomed them, and when they entered the smell of the spices was all too tempting.

If Harper had been wishing to see Conrad, she was rewarded. He was engaged in a very intense snog session with none other than Shilpa, only half hidden by thick embroidered curtains that led to the kitchen. The rest of the restaurant was empty. When Chauncey cleared his throat with an irritated 'harrumph', the two jumped apart, flustered.

"Oh," Shilpa said in her lyrical voice, "Hi guys. How was your holiday?"

A blush stained her dark skin, and Harper couldn't help noticing how beautiful she looked with her milk chocolate skin, kohl lined eyes, and wavy dark hair. Conrad, for his part, was examining the lighting fixture above his head. His hair was tied back, and he wore faded jeans and a dark blue sweater that looked hand knit.

"It was good," Ben was the only one who answered. Avarick looked ready to relapse, Harper was pale as a ghost, and Chauncey was glaring steadily at his brother.

"Since when have you two been dating?" he questioned icily.

"We started up right before Christmas," Shilpa said shyly, oblivious to everyone's discomfort.

"Can we have a table for four? Unless you two would like to join us?" Ben asked politely, but something had changed in his voice. He kept sneaking quick glances at Harper, who was intently not looking at Conrad. Ben's feelings towards the redhead grew stonier by the second.

"I have to work," Shilpa excused herself, "You go ahead Conrad."

He didn't look excited by thought, but could think of no way out. Quietly he took a seat with the other four. They ordered drinks, and sat in a subdued silence. Finally, Conrad spoke, "Long time no see, Tyler. What's got you down?"

"Merlin cheated on her," Chauncey said gruffly, exchanging a look with his brother.

"No surprise there. Uh, sorry, Tyler," Conrad ran a hand through his hair.

Avarick gave him a hot look and muttered something obscene.

"So, Shilpa," Benvolio prodded, his expression fierce. Harper looked up sharply.

Conrad smiled and said earnestly, "She's a sweet girl. Sorry, Chaunce, but you know you didn't have a chance with her right?"

Chauncey frowned, "Still, what happened to fraternal loyalty?"

After another moment spent tensely glaring at his brother, both twins broke into identical grins.

"You really like her?" Chauncey asked.

"I like her well enough," Conrad replied, not quite answering the question.

"Fine, you're forgiven this time," Chauncey replied.

Conrad hadn't once looked in her direction. Harper frowned. He really didn't plan on being her friend anymore. Even with a new girlfriend, which was surprise enough, he wouldn't look at her. Harper felt something squeeze in her chest. This wasn't right. Because Conrad had always been standing next to her, fighting with her and laughing with her and just being there. He had those bloody demanding eyes, the deepest blue she could imagine. And he had that self satisfied smirk always playing over his lips. Even when he wanted to be nice, he wouldn't let her get away with anything. Always, always, Conrad was there forcing her to be better at whatever she did. Now he was gone, even though he was sitting only a few feet away. Harper felt her eyes tearing, and blinked.

"Harper, aren't you cold?" It was Shilpa's voice that broke through her reverie, "Your feet have turned so white?"

To tell the truth, she hadn't noticed. Walking through the snow in flip flops had been rather stupid of her, but her mind had been on Avarick and her mum's wedding.

"Here, order your food, and I'll let you borrow some boots and a coat before you leave," Shilpa beamed. Harper nodded mutely.

"How was everyone's holiday?" Chauncey asked after they had ordered.

"Okay, until the end," Avarick mumbled.

"Not bad," Benvolio admitted.

"You were with me the entire time, tosser," Conrad informed his brother.

"What about you Harpy?" Chauncey asked.

"My mother's getting remarried," she answered faintly.

"Are you serious?" Conrad blurted.

Harper looked up, eyes dark. She nodded. Conrad had met her mother, and knew about her father. She'd forgotten. But he'd said something to her, so maybe that was a good sign? Instead of saying something comforting, he looked away. Everyone else at the table congratulated her, like it was something she actually enjoyed. The only person who would have noticed her discomfort didn't lay eyes on her for the rest of the night.

* * *

At first, Joshua didn't plan on taking the assignment. Even when Casey had him pinned against the wall threatening to Avada Kedavra him if he didn't charm Casey's undead girlfriend, Joshua seriously considered saying no. Only, as much as he'd mocked Casey and Noah for missing their dead counterparts, the truth was, he'd missed Elanore. He'd had many girlfriends, and had even recently proposed to one. Lucky him, he'd been turned down. He spent a lot of time in the dark, by himself, or conversing in a language he didn't entirely understand. The many girlfriends made him remember he was still a human being, but they didn't ease the numbness he felt deep inside. Only Elanore had ever made him feel like he wanted to do insanely stupid, impractical things, like scream in empty fields or do charity work.

So when Casey asked him a third time, wand jabbed into his throat, pleading, "Please Joshua. I need to have Prue back. She's the only girl that makes me feel alive. Have you ever felt that way? That you need to touch that person, just to feel alive?"

Joshua caved.

So now he sat hunched outside the frosty window of a skeezy pub, peering in on the occupants. He'd arrived half an hour ago. It had been a shock when he first saw her. Her hair was stark black, cut in a severe chin length bob. Her deep blue eyes were no nonsense set in a pale china doll face. Elanore. Joshua breathed in sharply. He hadn't believed it was true.

She was scolding two young men for drinking too much out of a pitcher. Gelliston sat next to her, and a man he assumed was Wakefield sat across from her. He'd been watching her for so long, but now it was time to get to work. Crouched outside, aiming directly at Prue, Joshua whispered, "_Imperio."_

* * *

----Originally there was going to be more to this chapter, but since I have to fly to California tomorrow, I decided to cut it short. In the next chapter, Conrad and Harper face off, Zillah and Merlin enjoy some private time with Merlin's big brother, Chauncey comforts Avarick, Casey talks to Bobby, and Serendipity reveals her involvement.

Oh, and did I mention there's a dance? 3 3 3 Jondy.


	6. Once Upon A Time, She Said

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 6: 'Once Upon A Time', She Said…_

By: Jondy Macmillan

_Disclaimer: I realized I have yet to do one for this story! Oops! The world of Harry Potter, characters such as Ron Weasley, and all locales including Hogwarts, Durmstrang, the Ministry of Magic, and Beauxbatons are the sole property of JK Rowling. The stories of Giddy Brew, Poison Fairytales, and all related side stories are not meant to infringe upon Miss Rowling's work and are purely fan-based fiction. Giddy Brew, Poison Fairytales, and the characters within as well as the locale of Willowcrest Academy of Defensive and Offensive Magic are property of Jondy Macmillan/Cassie Peterson. Shimmercobble School of Advanced Sorcery and the characters of Serendipity Watson and Polaris Morgan are the creative property of Jondy Macmillan/C.P. and Serendipity Watson/Kristin Mokes. Elanore Kingston is the creative property of Jondy Macmillan/C.P. and Kait Nickels. The characters of JJ Hyde and Zoey Masters are the creative property of Jondy Macmillan/C.P. and Julienne Mathis and Ashley Kelly, respectively. Please do not make use of characters without permission of the author!!! _

A/N: For anyone who wonders why this story is called Poison Fairytales- well, originally the name was Poison Fairytales, Skeleton Charms, and Gossamer Wings. But that was too long. The two word title like Giddy Brew seemed appropriate. But I'm sure some people are like, how can a fairytale be poison. Two ways. The first is that many a fairytale poisons the minds of young girls (and I'm sure boys as well, but being female I won't go into guy's wounded psyches). I mean come on, how many girls do you know who sit around waiting for their 'prince' to come save them instead of being a little bit more proactive? Probably not as many as there used to be, but still. On the other hand, I never really thought fairytales were all that happy. Many of the original versions were downright depressing, actually. Poison seemed an appropriate term. Now, sorry the disclaimer and notes were so long!!! On to the tale!

* * *

"We're resolving this now," Harper told Conrad.

"I don't have time to talk right now," he avoided her gaze just like every other time she'd attempted to talk to him. As far as Harper knew, Conrad had been dating Shilpa for four weeks now. As much as she liked Ben, she was insanely jealous.

"Where you going to go? Bathroom?" Harper suggested sweetly. Conrad looked around, defeated. They were in the middle of one of Professor Buckland's tedious lectures. He didn't allow anyone to leave his class, for any reason. The only reason Harper got away with speaking to Conrad was because her voice was lower than a whisper.

"What do you want?" the redhead asked warily, narrowing his eyes.

Harper took a deep breath, "You don't get to not be friends with me."

"Too late. We're not friends. Just like you wanted," Conrad turned back to furiously scribbling notes on the various potions used to suppress transformations, such as those of a werewolf or even animagus.

"Blast! That's not what I want, and you know it. Stop being so bloody shirty and lets be friends again," she exploded, earning a harsh glare from Professor Buckland.

"That's ace. Why didn't I think of that?" he wondered sarcastically, then returned to his notes.

Harper looked very much like she might cry. She felt very much like it too. Bravely, she stood and announced, "Professor Buckland, I'm feeling a bit nauseous. May I leave?"

The hulking man of a professor turned to stare at her through the fumes of the potion he was brewing. The audacity of this young woman had startled him into silence. Mutely, he nodded. He figured she must be really sick if she dared to speak to him. Anyway, he truly didn't want her spewing in his class. Vomit and potion brewing just don't mix well.

If Harper had hoped for one of Willowcrest's rare sunny days when she escaped out onto the porch of the manor, she was in for disappointment. Outside she discovered the banging noise she'd mistaken as the cook's over enthusiasm in the kitchen (usually landmarking a trip to Nataraja due to the fervent desire to escape food poisoning) was actually thunder. Professor Buckland's classroom didn't have windows; most potions they worked with this term were light sensitive. Now she could see and hear the drumming of the rain against mud and grass. Deciding she didn't care if she got splashed, Harper took up residence on one of the old, ripped cushions near the corner of the rambling porch. Closing her eyes, Harper listened. The rain had a rhythm that soothed her nerves. Plus, there was always the clichéd advantage of having her tears hidden by the fat drops now splattering her cheeks.

A few minutes passed like this. Her reverie was interrupted by a cleared throat. When she didn't open her eyes, Harper felt the weight of another body sink down on to her cushion.

A guilty voice said, "Sorry."

Harper leaned her head onto Conrad's shoulder, body trembling, "You're not being fair, Con."

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he mused.

"I said some pretty nasty things," Harper admitted.

"We could give being friends another go, I suppose," Conrad offered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "So stop crying, okay?"

"I am not crying," she growled, wiping furiously at her wet face.

After a minute or two, she asked, "What did you tell Professor Buckland?"

"That I thought I might have caught what you had," Conrad chuckled, "Poor old chap looked at me like I was carrying the plague. Seems he doesn't like illness all that well."

Harper met Conrad's eyes. The deep blue drew her in, the way it had since the very first day she'd met him, back at Hogwarts. She remembered thinking that day, 'This boy is magic. They've made a mistake letting me in, because I don't look like him, and he IS magic.'

Sod all. Who was she kidding? All those stupid plans she'd made about her wild and crazy life at Willowcrest (a misnomer if there ever was one) weren't going to happen. She'd had to practically brainwash herself into fancying other boys this past summer. It still wasn't working. He continued prattling on and on about why Professor Buckland was a ginormous git, oblivious to her thoughts.

"I don't want to be just friends anymore," Harper breathed.

Before Conrad could react, Harper leaned in. She brushed her lips ever so gently against the corner of his mouth. Surprised, his lips parted, and Harper took that opportunity to press her mouth hard against his. Conrad dallied only a second before returning the kiss. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her close.

When they broke apart, both soaking wet and breathing hard, neither said a word. Instead, Conrad took Harper's hand in his and they sat quietly, watching the rain.

* * *

Benvolio had a grand plan. He had originally thought that he would ask Harper out at Christmas. He would take her on an all too romantic date, engage her in lively conversation, and then ask her to be his. Problem was, she'd shown up wearing Conrad's jacket. He'd gotten nervous and wimped out. Just because she went on dates with him didn't mean she wanted to date him, right? And she wore Conrad's jacket a bunch of times after that, right up until break…maybe she liked him more?

Over the hols, he'd reevaluated. He wanted to date Harper, and he knew she fancied him. Chauncey had told him so. So he would do it on Valentine's day. That was his great romantic plan. She would say yes, and they'd live happily ever after.

Harper really had a way of ruining his plans.

Chauncey, Avarick, and Benvolio were at Nataraja, waiting for Harper. She'd skipped out on potions class, as well as muggle relations afterwards. Conrad hadn't been at class either. For some reason, Ben felt a knot in his stomach. He knew the two weren't talking, but still…

He was chatting amiably with Shilpa when they walked in. They were avidly discussing the merits of certain Quidditch teams. Both wore huge smiles. The knot in Ben's stomach grew tenfold.

Shilpa looked surprised but pleased to see Conrad. She lay a big kiss right on his lips. The redhead looked startled and embarrassed. Harper looked annoyed. Benvolio could tell he wasn't the only one who noticed. Avarick's eyes were wide, and Chauncey was looking at the awkward triangle with a keen eye. Only Shilpa seemed to be oblivious.

They sat down and ordered. Ben watched the couple carefully for any signs of…well, of anything really. Something was off, but he couldn't quite tell if he was imagining it. Unable to take it anymore, Ben stood, "Harper, can I talk to you?"

The dark haired girl looked up, "Sure."

He led her to a dark corner of Nataraja, where the flashes of lightening through the gloomy windows were the only sign of light. Thunder cracked loud overhead. Forcing a smile, Ben threw his plan out the window, "Hey, so there's something I've been meaning to ask you for a long time."

"Oh?" her turquoise eyes widened innocently, "What?"

Ben breathed in sharply, and rushed, "Harper, do you wanna go out sometime? With me?"

"Like on a date? Ben, I've been on dates with you," Harper said slowly.

He hurried to cover himself, "No, I mean…I know we've been on dates, but I want you to be my girlfriend."

Understanding flashed over Harper's shadowed face, "Oh. Ben…"

"I mean," he babbled, "I figured it was the next obvious step, and I was going to ask you on Valentine's day, but you walked in and something's going on between you and Conrad isn't it?"

Harper blinked, "Yes."

"Yes? You'll go out with me?" For a second, he dared to hope.

"Oh Ben," she said again, in that same sad tone, "No, I can't go out with you. Yes, something's going on with me and Conrad. I don't know what it is. I've known it's there, and I tried to ignore it….but…."

"Are you dating?" Ben asked softly.

"No," Harper laughed dryly, "He's with Shilpa, isn't he then. It's up to him what happens next."

Realizing she sounded rather callous to the boy whose heart she'd just broken, Harper said quickly, "Ben, I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he looked at the ground and whispered, "I never wanted you anyway."

* * *

It happened like this. Every night at six, when Zillah was at tutoring, she met him. There was a classroom no one had used in ages. It felt very Hogwarts, to be meeting in empty classrooms for illicit snog sessions. But it was the only time of day Avarick was able to stop wondering why he chose Zillah. She wanted to ask what witchy appeal that belligerent cow had, but never managed to work up the courage. After all, they'd only dated for three months. It wasn't like she owned him…

Tonight, she was proudly showing off her new haircut. She hadn't done much, actually. He hair was still long and straight, but her fringe was quite different. She wondered if Merlin would be different than all the other boys who asked 'You look funny. What'd you do?'

He did. He noticed.

"I…like your bangs," Merlin said lamely, taking a seat next to her on the dusty desk near the front of the room.

"My what?" Avarick asked with a snicker.

"Your bangs," he gestured to her hair.

"Oh! My fringe," she smiled even more widely.

"I forgot, you lot don't say bangs, do you."

"Oh, we say it," Avarick laughed perversely.

Merlin reddened, "I didn't mean that kind of bang!"

It was fun to tease him, to pretend that they were still together. It was fun to pretend he wasn't just using her.

Still, she had to ask. She did it every night, in the hopes that maybe the answer might have changed, "Why did you choose Zillah?"

"Not again," Merlin groaned, "I like you Avarick, a lot."

"Then why are you with her?" she exploded.

"Because. It's the right choice. Zillah is the logical choice," Merlin glowered at her, "My mom loves her. My brother is good friends with her…my dad would approve."

"Oh yes, because she hates the mudbloods she's daughter-in-law material," Avarick said hotly.

"Yeah, maybe," Merlin rolled his eyes, "It's not like I hate mudbloods."

"No? Then why do you call them mudbloods, hmm? I watched you, when we dated you know. I'm not stupid. If you really wanted Zillah over me, then you should have just said so. I know you were after her even before you asked me out. My friends told me. You think it's great that she hates everything, don't you?"

"Yes," Merlin threw up his hands, "Yes, I do. I think Zillah is dead sexy. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"At least it was honest," Avarick bit her lip, "But why are you screwing around with me?"

"Because. I don't know when it happened, but I sort of fancy you now as well. You can be pretty sexy too. And it might…you're friends with mudbloods and muggles and I don't know. I sort of feel like I love you sometimes."

Avarick blushed. That was such a jerk thing to say, but somehow it made her feel warm. She was so pathetic. Merlin smiled timidly at her, and she smiled back.

"So, have you heard from your brother?" she asked conversationally.

"Warren? Yeah, he's coming to visit soon. I think we'll be going to that big ministry bash they're having in London."

"Oh? Such good luck," Avarick didn't feel bad about pressing Merlin for news about Warren. She'd been doing it ever since Harper had filled her in on the whole Professor Hargrove fiasco with his ex lover. Just on the off chance that she'd find something out. Now that Merlin had broken it off with her, she felt even less badly about it.

"He's trying to get me to join up with some organization he's in," Merlin continued.

Avarick froze. Trying not to sound dodgy, she asked, "Like the Truebloods?"

"Hey, no. I would never join the Truebloods," Merlin rolled his eyes, "You know that. Got to keep up my image. Why, you scared?"

He meant to teaser her, but something inside Avarick just snapped, "Yes, I'm scared, alright? I'm scared that one day you won't be there anymore. I'm scared you'll realize what a pathetic loser I am, and drop me. I'm scared that you'll end up like your father. I know you won't, but I'm still scared of it," Merlin reeled back, as though he'd been slapped, "You're scared of me?"

"No, I'm scared of what you might become. Of what might become of us."

"There is no us," Merlin frowned, "I'm with Zillah now."

"Right, I forgot that you only like girls when they hate something more than you do," Avarick turned around, "I don't know why I bothered."

"Avarick, wait!" Merlin cried, frustrated, "That's not what I…"

She was already gone.

Glaring at the ceiling, Merlin demanded, "Why? Why? I know I'm doing wrong, but she's so damn cute. I can't help it."

The ceiling didn't have an answer.

* * *

When Avarick told Harper what happened, the dark haired girl surprised her.

"Forget it," Harper said lazily, "Boys exist to make us angry. Not to mention confused, upset, annoyed, jealous and a variety of other emotions that might be considered motives for manslaughter."

Avarick raised an eyebrow. Harper smiled softly, "But sometimes they can be really cute."

"You're really happy, aren't you? Are you back with Conrad?"

"Um…Merlin really doesn't like muggle borns?" Harper asked, changing the subject, "D'you suppose that includes me?"

"Probably. But what do you care about that wanker when you've got Ben and Conrad?"

"I haven't got either," Harper told her.

"What?"

"Ben asked me out today. I said no."

"You wretched girl. What did he say?" Avarick asked.

"That he didn't want me in the first place," Harper bit her lip.

"But that's okay, right? You have Conrad…don't you?"

"He's going to stay with Shilpa."

"Beg pardon?"

"You heard me," Harper said shrewdly, "And don't look at me like that."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because boys are stupid sometimes. But kind of honorable. He wants to stick it out with her a little longer, to see if anything will come of it. He thinks she deserves it. I respect that."

"Isn't that going to hurt you?"

"Sure. But it's my fault, isn't it? I didn't go after him till it was too late."

Avarick paused, unsure if this was true. Why did love have to be so complicated? Even when two people shared the same feelings, it was still too difficult to be together.

"Why do you look so happy, then?"

"Because," Harper cupped her chin with both hands, leaning her elbows on her knees, "At least I know how I feel. I'm not hurting Ben, I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just feeling…in love. Even if Con doesn't feel the same, it still feels good to be in love, doesn't it?"

This, Avarick reflected, was true. That feeling was probably the reason she put up with Merlin. If she wasn't in love, she would go back to feeling empty, and anything would be better than that.

Harper put her arm around the blonde, "Cheer up. Let's go harass Simone or something. We're young and beautiful, and for once the sun in shining in the sky."

"It's night," Avarick told her.

"Shush," Harper said, "Let's go have some fun."

* * *

Casey had been dubious about having his little brother and his friends work for him. But when Conrad, Harper, and that blonde girl, Tyler showed up with news of Warren Pembroke's impending appearance at the Ministry gala, he was grateful.

"Stupid Joshua. Didn't tell me anything about them showing at the gala," Casey muttered, "Bad spy."

The first thing Casey did was call Joshua and berate him. The brunette dripped sarcasm as he apologized, but promised to keep a closer eye on him imperius-ed victim. The second thing he'd done was contact Serendipity and demand she fork over tickets for the gala. Lastly, he contacted the parents of all his students and invited them. The students would probably hate him, but it would make ten aurors-in-training and two full grown aurors much less conspicuous.

Casey sighed. He hadn't seen Prue since that night in Kensington. He missed her. The scent of her hair and the feel of her skin haunted his dreams, along with those beautiful green eyes. He wished he'd convinced her to take a picture or something, so that she wasn't only a nostalgic memory.

Speaking of memories, Casey still hadn't gotten the chance to talk to Bobby. He decided to make a risky move, and invited him to the gala as well. At least the night would be eventful, he mused.

* * *

"I hate Professor Hargrove!" Eranthe Demontico fumed, tugging at the waist line of her dark blue, form fitting dress.

"You look pretty, Eranthe," Phinny Kleinberg told her, even though they both looked more uncomfortable than anything else.

"I think Professor Hargrove is amazing," Simone tittered.

"You would," Harper retorted. Simone wore a revealing sheath of turquoise shimmers, a silver shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She looked drop dead gorgeous. Harper, on the other hand…

Harper wrinkled her nose. The dress her mother had forced her to wriggle into was pink. There was dark pink silk draped over her collar bone, sweeping over her shoulders to fall near her shoulder blades. The material then pulled taut to connect in to the sides of the low cut back. The rest of the dress was sugar pink and form fit to her abdomen and then loose, flowing beautifully near the bottom. The entire thing was whimsical as could be. Harper despised it. Her mother had even gone so far as to sweep her stark hair up over her neck in an elegant bun.

"Aw, I think you look nice," Benvolio cheered. He'd either gotten over her extremely quickly, or he was a very good actor.

"You don't think it's a bit flash?" she worried, wondering whether she should be enjoying Ben's newly reinstated friendship or worrying.

"She means a bit too pink," Avarick interjected.

Avarick wore a lovely gown of thick crimson brocade like a Russian empress. Gold lines shimmered down the front and across the hem. Her wheat colored hair was tied into an intricate web of braids atop her head. Harper felt like hating her.

The boys had it good. They all got to wear plain black dress robes, and all looked exceedingly handsome. The gala was in one of the ministry ballrooms. The entire place was black marble and torch light, very romantic. And very, very dark. It was difficult to tell who was five feet from you.

"Even if you hate me; yes, I heard that Demontico," Casey said pointedly to the dark haired girl, "I want you all to be on the look out. Despite the parental presence, this is an official auror assignment. Anything suspicious, I want noted. Got that?"

When his class nodded, Casey said, "Good. Now go have fun. Get plastered, for all I care."

He winked, and half the class dispersed. Casey turned to his little brothers and their friends, "Now you five. You know who to look out for. If you see them, notify me or Noah, and we'll handle the rest."

"Excuse me sir," Ben said, "But you want us to look out for Prue, Frank, Elanore, Warren, Salem, Gradaver, and Bobby Stone? What does Gradaver look like, and why Bobby Stone?"

"Gradaver…I have no clue how to answer that. I assume if you see one of the others, he may or may not be around. Use your instinct, Asher. And as for Bobby…I have business with him."

Noah raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Before the students could leave, a shrill voice washed over them.

"Casey! Chauncey! Conraaaaaaaad!" All three Hargroves tensed up.

"Oh no. You invited her?" Chauncey demanded, "What are you, stupid?"

"I had to," Casey winced, "It wouldn't have been fair not to."

Arcadia Hargrove, stunning in a gown of blue velvet swept up to her sons and kissed each one lightly on the cheek, "My boys, the aurors!"

"Mum," all three groaned.

Harper stifled a laugh, then froze as Arcadia said, "And Harper? Love, is that you!"

It was Conrad and Chauncey's turn to laugh as Arcadia enveloped Harper in a huge bear hug, "Dear, I haven't seen you in forever! Why has Conrad stopped brining you to visit? Why I didn't even know you were at Willowcrest!"

"Mum," Conrad chuckled, "Leave her alone!"

"It's okay, Con. It's lovely to see you, Mrs. Hargrove," Harper told the redheaded woman.

"It's lovelier to see you, I assure you. When are you going to convince my Conrad to settle down?" Arcadia clucked, "I need to see one of my boys get married before I die."

"Mum!" Conrad shouted, red as could be. Harper was sporting a rather lovely red tint to her cheeks as well.

"Mum," Casey chided, "Cayan is married."

"Yes but she's a cow," Arcadia said airily, "I want a nice girl, like Harper. When are you going to get a girlfriend, Casey darling? I know you miss Prue but-"

"Oh mum, I just spotted a friend. Got to run," Casey excused himself and ducked into the crowd, leaving Noah, the twins, and their friends to fend for themselves. Noah got the message and quickly excused himself.

"Mum, you knew Prue?" Conrad asked as the rest of his friends found excuses to run away. Only Harper stood by to listen.

"Oh yes. Sweet girl. Came to your Auntie Haterii's wedding, you know. That dratted husband of hers treated her terribly, of course. Poor muggle born girl. It was terrible, the way she died. And Casey did so adore her. Cerulean as well."

"What was Casey like when he was my age?"

"A bit like you, Con. Rough around the edges," she beamed, "But very kind."

"For real, mum," Conrad rolled his eyes.

"Casey was an intelligent child," Arcadia smiled softly, "But he tried to hide out by being outspoken, rambunctious, and generally- excuse my language son, but generally badass. He calmed down a little when he lost Prue. She was a pretty, albeit sarcastic young thing. He loved her with all his heart. She calmed him, I think."

Before Conrad could comment, she said, "Oh! I didn't know that Bobby would be here!"

"You know Bobby too?" Conrad exclaimed.

Fondly she recalled, "Oh, Bobby Stone. Yes I knew him well for a while. Casey's best friend, he was rather sporty. And curious. My, he was curious about all sorts of things. He was with Prue for a short period- I think he fell for her when he found out Casey liked her. He figured she must be special. He was a bit jealous when Casey won that girl over."

"Wow," Conrad had never realized his mother would be such a fountain of knowledge about his big brother's past. He bet she had loads of blackmail, too. He would have to check into that at some point.

"Served him right though," Arcadia commented.

"What?"

"Bobby. Served him right being jealous. Casey was in absolute agony when Bobby was with Prue. It was like…well, imagine if Harper was with another guy. You'd be crazy with jealousy, wouldn't you?"

"Harper is with another guy, mum. She's dating Ben," Conrad said patiently, even though his mother didn't know who Ben was.

"No, I'm not," Harper interjected clearly.

"You aren't?" Conrad asked. That wasn't right. Hadn't the plan after the porch incident last week been to continue life as normal? Hadn't she been the one to decide that, even after she'd said she wanted to be more than friends?

Harper looked at her shadowy reflection in the marble floor, "Ben asked me to go out with him, and I said no."

Arcadia glance back and forth between her son and the girl she hoped would become her daughter in law. Quietly, she decided it was time to excuse herself. With a smile, she slipped away.

"Why would you do that, Harper?" Conrad asked, angry, "Ben's a good guy."

"He is," Harper bit her lip, "And I don't want to hurt him. So I said no, before I could do any more damage."

"I'm not breaking up with Shilpa for you," he told her bluntly.

"I'm not asking you to," she retorted, "I said life as normal, didn't I?"

She had, but somehow Conrad had interpreted that as she wanted to stay with Ben. Now that she wasn't, he didn't know what to do.

"Fine. Life as normal," Conrad repeated, and marched away, leaving Harper alone in her incredibly pink gown.

* * *

Casey had actually spotted a friend when he'd left his mother. But on the way to the friend, he'd happened to see Bobby. Tisiphone was nowhere in sight. He'd come alone. Good. Casey planned on having a word with him.

But as he made his way up to the blonde man, he'd noticed Bobby was talking to a young woman. She was quite good looking, actually. She was tall, even more so because of her high muggle heels. She wore a rather short white dress that made her legs look miles long. It was made of layers of some gossamer like material that swayed gently when she moved. Black sashes of the same material ran parallel lines down the front. Her honeyed brown hair was held back by a silver barrette, falling neatly past her shoulder blades. Casey would have recognized her fierce green eyes anywhere.

"Prue," Casey breathed when he walked up, and then said in a harder voice, "Bobby."

Bobby stood stone still, aware he'd been caught. He didn't look so good. His chin was covered in scruff, and his face was part tan and part sun burnt. At least he'd taken the effort to do his hair.

"Casey!" Prue exclaimed, "I was just telling Bobby how much I loved him!"

Casey glanced around angrily calling into the crowd, "Dirk?"

"Relax," Prue giggled, "I was just joking. Actually, I just ran into Bobby a second ago. I can't stick around though. Gradaver will see me."

"He's here?"

"They're all here," Prue said shortly, starting to walk away.

As she started to disappear, Casey caught a whiff of that scent she'd been wearing the other night. He couldn't help himself. He caught her wrist, and when she turned back doe eyed and startled, he whispered huskily in her ear, "You look amazing."

Prue beamed. Then she was gone. He turned back to Bobby.

"Start speaking. Now," Casey told his friend icily.

"Ah…" Bobby mumbled, "So she told you. I didn't think she would."

"How could you take advantage of her like that?" Casey demanded.

Bobby's eyes darkened, "Take advantage? Excuse me? It wasn't like she wasn't asking for it. In fact, she was practically begging me to love her."

"She was scared!"

Bobby snorted, "She was lonely."

"She was confused!"

He made the same noise and said darkly, "Face it Casey, she was horny. She didn't care if it was me, or you, or anyone. Just feel better that it was me."

"And then you had the nerve to lie to me about it? To listen to me talk about her for two years and failing to mention 'oh, I bumped into her at Trafalgar square'?"

"It was none of your business."

"How do you figure?"

"Because for once, Prue and I got to be together without you interfering. Although I see you've backed her into a corner now. She always liked you more."

Casey noted the bitterness in Bobby's voice. The realization came slowly, "She left you, didn't she?"

"No," Bobby scoffed, "Of course not."

"She left you, and you still fancied her!" Casey practically crowed.

"Shut up, you tosser," Bobby hissed, "I do not still fancy her."

Casey frowned, "Good. Because she's mine. And you're married."

"She's not your property, Hargrove," Bobby informed him hotly.

"Oh yes she is. Now that I've got her back, I'll never let her go," Casey said in a low voice, "And if you ever lay a finger on her again, I'll kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," Bobby rejoined.

Their wands were in their hands before either could blink, but Casey had the advantage. He knew that if there was any wand work at the gala, they'd be kicked out. More than that, he realized he was the muggle studies professor, and there was one thing muggles did really well. Reeling back his wand hand, Casey punched Bobby as hard as he could. Bobby didn't get a chance to retaliate, and Casey didn't get a chance to keep hitting the blonde. Prue's hands were at his arm, tugging him into the crowd. As the ministry officials ran over to Bobby, Prue pulled him deeper into the thrash of people and wound her arms around him.

"Don't worry, he won't tell," Prue said, watching Casey look worriedly at Bobby.

"Actually, I was thinking you're not supposed to be seen with me."

"I couldn't resist," Prue rolled her eyes, "My hero, coming to defend my chastity. It was very hot."

"I did do that, didn't I?" Casey asked, looking into her eyes.

"Mmm," Prue smiled and rubbed her nose tenderly against his. He leaned his head towards hers, and she buried her face in his neck. They danced slowly, each enjoying the other's embrace.

"I love you, idiot," Prue murmured.

"Love you too," Casey replied happily. For that moment, everything was perfect.

* * *

Noah and Frank met in a dark corner of the gala. Frank pointed out where Warren and Salem stood, talking animatedly with Noah's students, Pembroke and Carew.

"They're being recruited," Frank told his lover softly.

"I know," Noah replied, "But I think I have a better recruit for you."

"Really? Do tell," Frank grinned, kissing his boyfriend's nose.

"Trust me," Noah said darkly, glancing at the area where Casey and Prue were dancing, "You'll love this."

* * *

After the dance, Harper and her friends went to a restaurant in the village. They'd debated staying in London, but Conrad had wanted to see Shilpa and Avarick had pleaded tiredness. They sent Avarick to the manor and went to eat. Shilpa met them for dinner, and everyone managed to stay cordial. Awkward moments were filled by Chauncey, who always seemed to know the right thing to say, surprisingly. After dinner, they decided to go home, but Shilpa convinced Conrad to leave for some alone time.

"We're going to catch a flick at the cinema," Conrad told them. Harper watched him leave. Half way home, she excused herself from Ben and Chauncey.

"I need to get some fresh air."

"Okay. Don't get too much," Chauncey clucked, "You'll catch cold."

"I won't," Harper assured him.

Benvolio watched as she wandered out into the moors, "That's really not safe. Maybe one of us should follow her."

"She's a big witch, Ben. She can handle her own broomstick and everything. Let her be," Chauncey guided the brunette home, regaling him with all sorts of sordid tales to keep his mind of Harper. It half worked.

* * *

Dana Drake wasn't stupid. She knew that the rest of her moronic ex-friends from her teenage years were clinging to the past. They thought that three dead people up and walking around was natural. In Dana's opinion, what was dead should stay dead. She'd thought so since Bobby Stone first asked her and Dirk to start investigating the wicked trio's appearance. Dirk had been completely gung ho, but Dana had objected. She'd known it was a bad idea. If anything, her husband's death had proved that. This time, Dana was going to make sure that her poor, damned ex-friends remained underground.

Only thing was, Dana was a bit squeamish when it came to killing people. She'd done it before, but it wasn't her favorite thing in the world. Actually, it ended up being a bit messy if you got caught as well. She couldn't afford that.

Which is probably why Dana found herself on the front porch of one of her least favorite people. He didn't have a name anymore, although back in her Hogwarts days, they'd called him Samael. He'd been a local at Hogsmeade. In their first and second years, the students used to dare each other to run up and touch the hem of his cloak. Everybody thought he was a demon. Since then, Dana and Dirk had found out he was a skilled ex-auror, and a bountiful source of information. He had no qualms about killing anyone, anywhere, anytime, as long as they'd done wrong.

"This is for you, Dirk," Dana whispered as she raised her hand to knock on the door.

"What are you doing?" A voice came from the shadows before Dana could rap the wooden door.

She spun on her heel. A woman with long red hair and a sensible blue cloak stood behind her, a sweet smile on her face.

"Serendipity!" Dana breathed, "You scared me."

"My bad," the redhead's grin grew larger, and she said casually, "But what business could you have with Samael Adams? He's on the ministry watch list you know."

"I wasn't aware," Dana replied, "I thought he was a sort of war hero."

"War heroes go bad, you know. End up in a bad deal here and there…get involved with drugs…"

"Dirk and I use- used him as a source from time to time. I had no idea he got mixed up in anything so horrible," Dana was starting to get creeped out. That smile never left Serendipity's lips.

"Why don't you come get dinner with me? We haven't had a nice chat in such a long time."

"Oh, I can't. I have business here," Dana apologized.

"No, you don't," Serendipity said steadily, "You want to come have dinner with Polaris and I."

"Uh…okay," Dana bit her lip. She would just have to visit Samael later, when the ministry dogs weren't around.

Polaris met them in front of a club called Ruby Blue's in Leceister Square. It was a nice place if not Serendipity's style. Very…blue.

"Hi," Polaris called over the pounding music.

"How are you," Dana asked politely. She didn't know Polaris very well, even though they'd been on the same Quidditch team in school.

"It's nice to see you again," he blinked, "But I thought you were coming alone."

Serendipity flushed, "I ran into Dana on the street and she insisted she come along."

"Oh. Okay," Polaris made a face, "I would have invited the band then."

"Don't be mad," Serendipity pleaded, "I'll make it up to you. We can get Asian food."

Polaris immediately perked up. He loved Asian food. Dana sighed. She got to be a third wheel on a married couple's date. What the bloody hell was going on with Serendipity?

* * *

Warren Pembroke crouched outside the Japanese restaurant. He wasn't fond of the English. They talked funny and every time he spoke he could hear them silently snickering at him. His best friend and oft-times lover, Salem told him that he was being paranoid. Salem was a jerk though, so Warren ignored him.

Speaking of Salem, the boy was crazy like a fox. He was lying on the sidewalk, stretched out wide so that people had to step over him when they passed. He kept giving Warren heavy lidded looks. So stupid, he knew this was work.

"Jackass, get up," Warren called to him again, making sure the occupants of the restaurant couldn't hear him. Serendipity didn't like to be interrupted when she was with her husband. She'd done a good job keeping an eye on Mrs. Drake for them. They'd known it would only be a matter of time before she went after them, and they already had aurors on their tails. The last thing they needed was some kind of deranged bounty hunter going after them.

Frustrated, Warren tied his black hair back. He kept meaning to cut it, but it kept getting longer. He didn't know when it had become so long that it touched his shoulders and he had to start keeping it in a ponytail. Time got hazy when you worked for Gradaver Moerte.

"War-ren, can we go home yet?" Salem whined from his spot on the sidewalk.

"Excuse me sir, I'm going to have to ask you to move," a sweet tongued hostess from the restaurant asked Salem.

"No," Salem retorted with an impetuous look on his face then continued, "War-ren!"

The hostess looked at Warren, "Does this belong to you?"

"Sadly, yes," Warren shook his head gravely, "Don't worry. He'll be gone in a minute."

"Okay," the hostess smiled at him. She thought he was cute. With his olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes Warren got that a lot. At Shimmercobble all the girls had been after him. Even the mudbloods who'd known they hadn't a chance.

Then his little brother came to school, and the girls had quickly discovered who was a better catch. Stupid Merlin. Not that Warren cared much for girls. Occasionally the could be fun. The women he worked for could be pretty frisky. Not that he told Salem that. He didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings.

"I LOVE you War-ren!" Salem exclaimed giddily.

"Love you too, man," Warren rolled his eyes. It looked like Serendipity had everything under control. They didn't have to kill Mrs. Drake tonight. Time to report back.

"Come on loser," Warren called to Salem, "I'll play a game with you when we get home."

"Yay!" the boy bounced up from the cement, and wrapped his arms around Warren, "Happy!"

Warren rolled his eyes again. Still, every time Salem hugged him, he felt sort of tingly inside. With that thought, he apparated away.

* * *

Harper liked the cold and the quiet. She didn't mind the rain much either, but the comforting downpour was conspicuously absent tonight. Probably didn't want to ruin her lovely pink dress, Harper thought miserably. She'd met her mother's boyfriend at the dance. He seemed like a major drag. At least she'd found out where her own preference for redheads had come from. Chestral had the fieriest red hair Harper had ever witnessed. Not like Con's autumn leaf colored hair at all.

She took a seat on a flat stretch of land to watch the moon. After five minutes, she lay down, the stars overhead twinkling. For a second she could imagine the entire sky was a blanket that would soon descend down on her, enveloping her in light. Harper closed her eyes. When she opened them, she gasped.

Conrad was straddling her, a leg on either side without touching her body. His hands were on either side of head. Either she'd dozed off or he was dead quiet. She guessed the louder.

"You scared me," Harper told him, half laughing, half shaking. He really had startled her.

"Sorry," Conrad apologized.

Harper started, "I thought you were with-"

"I was," Conrad scowled.

"I thought you were going to-"

"We were on our way."

"Then why are you-"

"I wanted to be with you," Conrad leaned in close, "I've no idea why."

Almost afraid to ask, Harper queried, "Did you-"

"I did. You owe me big time," Conrad whispered, his breath heating her face. And then he kissed her. Harper smiled into the kiss. She knew it wasn't good to feel happy that Shilpa's heart was broken, but she couldn't help it. When Conrad was pressed up against her like this, she just knew that everything was perfect. She kissed him back passionately, deciding that she didn't ever want to let him go.

That night, Conrad snuck into Harper's room. She slept wrapped up in his arms, more comfortable than she'd been in a long, long time.

Only…Harper had a dream. Conrad walked down a long road with her, holding her hand. Then, abruptly, he broke away from her. He turned to face her, to say something, but she couldn't hear him. Harper reached out a hand, and he lifted his, but somehow he drifted farther away. She ran towards Conrad, arm outstretched, but instead ended up running straight into Ben's arms. He kept her from Conrad as the redhead faded away into the distance. She woke up gasping for breath. It was only four in the morning. Conrad looked at her, concerned.

"You okay, Harpy?"

"Bad dream," she replied, snuggling closer to him. It was okay. He was there, he hadn't gone anywhere.

"It's okay," he said echoing her thoughts, and she believed him.


	7. Where to Park Your Broomstick

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 7: Where To Park Your Broomstick_

By: Jondy Macmillan

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, not me. If it belonged to me, the couplings would be primarily slash, and there's a good chance Hermione's dearest dream would be to become a stripper. This is not because I hate Hermione, mind you. I like her muchly. However I tend to think anyone that self restrained has an inner nympho. Anyway, all characters within Poison Fairytales with the exception of Ron Weasley, and all locales with the exception of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and the Ministry (and the obvious; LONDON) belong to me, Jondy Macmillan. Yay me._

A/N: Due to the obscenely long disclaimer, there is no author's note today. Yay you!

A/N2: Minor correction; in the scene in chapter six where Casey bumps into Bobby and Prue talking at the gala and Prue says she was telling Bobby how much she loved him; Casey looks up and says Dirk, looking for the boy that imperius-ed his girlfriend into screwing around- that should be Joshua, obviously.

* * *

"_Hey handsome," Conrad glanced up. A lovely woman in a white dress was looking at him expectantly, "Last time I saw you, I think you were beating your brother up with a cricket bat."_

"_Do I know you?" Conrad tried to place her oddly familiar face. He hadn't played cricket for ages, and he didn't remember this pretty stranger ever watching. _

"_You know of me," the woman corrected, extending a hand, "Prue Gelliston. But you can call me Precious."_

"_I am not calling you that," Conrad reeled back, suddenly remembering the face of this girl. He'd only seen her in the yearbook and glimpses on their missions, or so he'd thought. Now he remembered her sweet smile and pretty face in a different setting. Arcadia had been right. Prue had been at that wedding when he was nine. He remembered her blurrily smiling at him that night._

_Prue shrugged, "Have it your way."_

"_Why are you even talking to me?" Conrad demanded._

"_You're Casey's little brother. I love Casey, and by default, I love you."_

"_That's twisted. I'm not into threesomes," he growled, but she simply smiled. _

"_I bet I could change your mind."_

"_I have a girlfriend," he retorted._

"_The witch with the bright pink dress," she observed._

"_No. She's just a friend."_

_Prue pursed her lips, "You know Con, if you love her, you should be with her. Not your girlfriend._

_You think you have forever, but really…" Prue snapped her fingers. _

_Conrad couldn't help it. Maybe it was the way she'd called him Con, just like Harper. Maybe it was the steel that had just materialized in her eyes. Determined that his words would be true, he spat,, "We will have forever. I'll protect Harper, the way Casey couldn't protect you."_

_Prue's eyes narrowed, "I could snap you in a second," she purred, "And your little not-girlfriend."_

"_Not now. I'm all grown up. I can take you or anything else that comes at me."_

"_No. You're just a little boy, Conrad. You and Casey are both little boys in some ways, pretending to be men."_

_As Conrad was about to reply, a disturbance in the crowd drew Prue's attention. Clucking her tongue softly she said, "You see. Fist fights at a ministry gala. How childish. I better go save him."_

_She was gone before he could say a word._

* * *

Bloody and defenseless, Joshua Kenth lay slumped against a brick wall. The wetness of the asphalt was soaking through his slacks, but Joshua couldn't bring himself to care. He was hypnotized by the hypnotic violet eyes of the pixy-like girl crouching before him.

"Joshua," Elanore smiled, reveling in what he'd just told her, "I think it's time to play a game."

"I like games," he told the dark haired girl with a wicked grin, even as he coughed so hard that he couldn't breath. He looked at his palm. Great, blood. How in the hell did he let Elanore catch him? It had been an accident. So careless these days. He never thought one miniscule young woman would be more tricky than a horde of goblins.

"So do I. You're just as glad as I am we're back together, aren't you?" Elanore purred, placing a kiss on her lover's lips.

"Of course, Ellie," Joshua replied darkly, forcing himself not to shrink away from her touch, "Of course I am."

"Good," Elanore sat back, satisfied, "Then I guess we'll be visiting Gradaver. Our wayward Precious has been very, very mischievous."

Joshua gulped. If Gradaver Moerte didn't kill him first, Casey Hargrove would have his head.

* * *

"Did you hear about the famous auror that's coming to visit?" Noah demanded, barging into Casey's room near three in the morning. A startled, decidedly feminine voice shrieked as the owner of the voice ducked under Casey's comforter, and Noah blinked.

Casey was half naked, wearing reading glasses and pretending to read a book upside down.

"It's just me, mate," Noah announced, "And that was pretty obvious, you know?"

Sheepishly, Prue came out from under the quilt, "Can't you even attempt to knock?"

"I could, but I have to keep Hargrove on his feet," Noah came and sat down on the bed, ignoring the hot looks Casey was throwing his way, "How are you, Prue?"

"I'm good," she wrinkled her nose, "And Frank's good. I know you're dying to ask. He said he'll come around tomorrow."

"I don't see why we can't just have Joshua imperious him too," Noah complained.

"Joshua doesn't have the balls or the strength to carry out two curses at once," Casey replied despondently, "And Prue flies lower under Gradaver's radar than Frank does. I don't know how your boy got into such a high position."

"I do," Prue chirped, and then coughed something that sounded vaguely like 'hand-job' but was cut off near the end as she realized who she was telling.

Noah paled, "You can't be serious."

Frantically, Prue said, "No, no! Joking, I swear."

"Oh," Noah lightened.

"By the way, Weslen," Prue asked, face suddenly hard, "I've been meaning to ask you. Why exactly does my boyfriend's thigh say 'Property of Noah' in black marker?"

Noah reddened, as did Casey. Indignantly, the redhead asked, "Where?"

"Right below your bum, behind your left leg. On the back side, obviously Casey," Prue rolled her eyes as Casey tried to find said marks.

"When did you?" Casey demanded of Noah.

"Two months ago. We were drunk. It's an old habit. Sorry, Hargrove," Noah apologized, looking completely not sorry. Casey scowled; he had liked the old, serious Noah. The reincarnated happy-go-lucky version got up to no good.

"Look at it this way. At least now you match Polaris and Frank," Prue fondly recalled the markings Noah had made in the Hogwart's days. She particularly remembered how red Serendipity's face had turned when she found Polaris's. Noah's permanent, real magic, magic marker was quite the trouble-making tool.

"Just remember though," Prue added in a cold voice, "Casey belongs to me."

"Sure thing," Noah gulped, wondering when Prue Gelliston had managed to get so scary. Oh wait, probably when she died.

Glancing back and forth between his girlfriend and his colleague, Casey said, "So, uh, famous auror?"

"Oh, right. Actually, the only reason I came to tell you is that apparently they're going after Gradaver. I don't think they know they're going after Gradaver. Actually, the owl they sent mentioned the 'infidel' who had been 'trespassing with intent to conspire' in the International Ministries. No mention of the murder of low level officials or anything. Just trespassing."

"So who is it?" Casey asked.

"An auror from Prague. Part of a famous team…" Noah trailed off impishly.

Casey paled. Figuring he'd messed with the redhead enough, Noah announced, "Elsinore."

"Oh," Casey breathed, "It's just her."

"Just who? Casey," Prue prodded.

"You haven't heard of Elsinore and Ebony? They're like the…like the Cloak and Dagger of the dark wizard catching world. Sisters," Noah chewed on his lower lip, "No one even knows their real names except for their super close personal acquaintances, ain't that right Hargrove?"

"Why do you keep asking Casey?" Prue wondered.

Noah smirked, "Oh, you'll see. Stick around until early tomorrow morning. That's when she gets here. She'll be staying two rooms down the hall. But actually I lied. I don't know if it's Elsinore or Ebony who's coming."

With that said, Noah disappeared. Casey was glaring furiously after the man, but it did nothing to make him re-appear or take back his words. Even though Prue spent the rest of the night pestering him to talk about the famous auror pairing, he refused to say anything, just turned sort of pale and green.

* * *

At dawn, Noah, Casey, Audra Dusserre, Wilhelm Buckland, Chalcedony Chase, and Prue all gathered on the lawn outside Willowcrest Manor. Audra spent half of her time giving Prue distrustful glares, while Wilhelm was trying to sidle up to the brunette and ask her out. Ignoring the old man, Prue engaged in a conversation about gardening with Chalcedony, although to Casey's knowledge, Prue knew nothing about gardens.

At half past seven, quite promptly, an auror in a thick black cloak appeared on the lawn. The woman beneath the cloak was barely five foot four, but she took confident strides over to the group. She had wild, wavy chestnut colored hair tumbling out of the hood of her cloak and spilling over her breasts. Causally dressed beneath the cloak in a simple, elegant black suit, the first person the woman acknowledged was Wilhelm.

In a clear voice, the woman asked, "I presume you are the headmaster?"

Startled, Wilhelm Buckland opened his mouth to object, but was cut off.

"CK!" Casey cheered, and the pretty brunette turned.

"Casey!" she ran straight for him, and everyone was startled as he opened his arms to give her a bear hug. Prue frowned.

Quickly realizing that introductions should be made, Casey released the auror and said, "Prue, this is Claudia Katarine Perris. She's an auror from Prague I attended Willowcrest with."

Prue raised an eyebrow, "Are you Elsinore or Ebony?"

"Elsinore," Claudia Katarine replied happily, "And you are?"

"They call me Precious," Prue cocked her head to the side.

Casey paused. For some reason Prue looked sort of mad. What had he done wrong? He removed his glasses and rubbed them clean with part of his shirt, as though that would make the problem clearer. Unfortunately, when he put them back on, Prue still looked irritated.

"Is the headmaster here, Casey?" Claudia Katarine asked in a thick accent.

"No, why? I can help you with whatever you need."

"So accommodating," Prue piped in childishly.

"Well, you'll see in a second," Claudia Katarine replied enigmatically. She didn't seem eager to stick around for Casey to find out however, and scurried off to introduce herself to Audra, Noah, Chalcedony, and Wilhelm.

Seconds later, everyone turned as they heard a loud crack. Casey turned white as a sheet as another woman in a cloak threw herself at him. This one was taller, with messy black hair and alabaster skin. She looked like a panther who had just found her lunch as she pressed herself up against Casey.

"Nadine," Casey squeaked.

"Casey," the woman practically purred, "I've missed you."

"Uh," the redhead replied eloquently.

"Haven't you missed me?" a sultry pout took over the woman's very red lips.

"Excuse me," Prue jumped between the two quickly, looking even more aggravated than before, "I don't believe we've been introduced, Miss er-."

"My name is Vanadine Delilah Perris," the woman replied snootily, eyeing Prue like she was some sort of noxious bug.

"What's that make you," Prue snorted rudely, "VD?"

"Jus Nadine," the woman replied icily, "I'm Casey's girlfriend."

There was a moment of silence. Very, very, uncomfortable silence.

"Hmm, see I was under the impression that I was Casey's girlfriend," Prue shot a nasty look towards a very uncomfortable Hargrove, "And I'm not often wrong about these things."

"She's my ex-girlfriend," Casey jumped in, his voice panicked, "We broke up when she got involved with another guy."

Prue levelly met Nadine's annoyed gaze. The dark haired woman blinked first and then said, "Casey stumbled upon me and a friend in a compromising situation. But I've come to win you back. Seeing the competition I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"Bint," Prue muttered.

"I think I have to…um," Casey thought frantically for some sort of excuse, "Go show CK her room!"

With that said, Casey ran, grabbed the brunette auror's arm and dragged her into the manor.

"I suppose that means he won't be showing you yours," Prue raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be sleeping in his," Nadine replied confidently.

"It'll be a tight fit then," Prue said levelly, "Since he'd spend most of the time cowering between us like a scared bunny rabbit."

"Shame. Casey's a fine man," Nadine drawled, examining her nails.

"Cocky bastard is more like it," Prue muttered under her breath.

Suggestively Nadine said, "If you don't want him…?"

"I never said that."

Quizzically, Nadine finally raised her dark eyes, "You know he doesn't love you, right?"

Narrowing her eyes, Prue asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Casey's in love with some dead girl. That's why he really dumped me."

"He told you about her?" Prue asked, surprised.

"No, but he said her name in his sleep. I checked it out. I think her name was Prudence something…His heart belongs to her. You can't ever win. Trust me, I tried."

Prue half smiled, "By the way, we haven't been introduced."

"Oh?" Nadine asked disinterestedly.

"I'm Prue Gelliston," Prue cocked her head, "And since you already know, you should back off. Ten years ago or now, I'll always want Casey," Prue met the auror's eyes with a fierce look, "He belongs to me."

* * *

"No, no, no," Harper chided her boyfriend, "You're not doing this right."

"I don't get it," Conrad groaned, trying the spell again, "_Maleficus_ _fera orior!_"

He waved his wand lamely at the glass jar in front of him, but nothing happened.

"You're doing it wrong," Harper protested, but she was cut off by Professor Dusserre.

"You're not just doing it wrong," the curvaceous teacher scolded, "You're butchering the entire art of it. Here, let me show you. _Maleficus_ _fera orior!"_

A single swish of her wand, and Audra Dusserre had produced the perfect bottle genie. The tiny, twig like creature was molded of blue and purple and gold, soft to the touch, and would at any moment grant three wishes.

"See?" Professor Dusserre asked with a satisfied smirk, "_Defluo."_

The bottle genie instantly evaporated.

"You coddle them too much," Professor Weslen's voice cut in sharply, "How about this, Hargrove? If you and Valente don't create one of these little buggers before class is out, you can spend time with me during lunch practicing."

Conrad groaned, and Harper scowled at him, "See, now you have to!"

Today they were having a joint class between Advanced Alchemy and Charms. However, Professor Dusserre had been twitchy all morning, and Noah had been incredibly snappish. It was sort of off putting.

Conrad and Harper spent the rest of the period trying to get the spell right. It was only in the last five minutes of class did they manage to create their very own, albeit slightly hyper bottle genie.

"You do realize it's not supposed to bounce up and down like that, right?" Professor Weslen asked keenly, "I could keep you for this."

"Oh, please don't," Harper pleaded, banging her head into the table.

"Fine. But if you come into class tomorrow and can't perform this spell perfectly, I can't promise anything," the man half-smiled, "Now hurry and leave before Audra sees you escape."

Discretely, Conrad and Harper slipped out of the classroom, racing down the hall until they were out of the manor. Gasping for breath, Harper said, "I think it's safe."

Conrad pecked the dark haired girl on the lips, and smirked, "Me too."

He darted in for a more involved kiss, but abruptly pulled back when he noticed a certain brunette eying them with a distasteful look on his face.

"Ben. Geez mate, don't sneak up on us like that," Conrad admonished. Harper turned to guiltily face her almost-ex boyfriend. To her great relief, he didn't look too torn up to find them snogging on the porch. This may have been because Avarick and Chauncey were standing directly behind him.

"Hey," Avarick frowned, hands on her hips, "Are we going to Nataraja or are we going to stand around gabbing all day?"

Avarick had been in a foul mood all day. It had been her idea to go to Nataraja, probably to see if being around Shilpa would put Harper and Conrad into the same state as her. However, Harper doubted there was anything that could bring her down from the particular brand of happiness Conrad was delivering. She'd never felt quite this way before, even back in Hogwarts when they were dating.

To their surprise, when they reached Nataraja Shilpa wasn't the perky hostess behind the stand. Instead it was a pretty girl with shiny dark hair and a faintly sarcastic smile.

"Welcome to Nataraja. How many, please."

"Er, five," Benvolio said nervously, wondering where Shilpa was. He didn't like change very much.

"Oh!" Shilpa scurried up to them, "Hey!"

The dark haired girl turned, "Are these regulars?"

"Yeah. Guys, this is my cousin Chandrika," Shilpa announced with a big smile, "She's going to be helping out round here."

"I prefer to be called Cherice," the girl said politely, "But didi refuses to do so."

"Didi?" Chauncey inquired.

"It means big sister," Cherice explained.

"Oh."

They ate lunch quietly. Cherice was their server. Despite the large smiles Shilpa occasionally cast their way, Harper noticed that she would sometimes look longingly towards Conrad. Harper couldn't seem to quash the shame she felt for breaking Shilpa and Conrad up.

He saw her pushing her food around her plate and asked, "Harpy, are you okay?"

"I'm good. It's just," she nodded towards Shilpa, "I feel bad."

Conrad placed a comforting hand on her knee, "Don't worry, Harpy. I'll take care of you, no matter what."

After they'd finished lunch, their friends started down the path back to Willowcrest. Conrad pulled Benvolio aside.

Icily, Ben asked, "What do you think you're doing Hargrove?"

"I have a favor to ask you," Conrad scowled, "Don't think I want to be doing this."

"Way to persuade me," Ben growled, but expectantly waited for the redhead to speak.

"If anything ever happens to me, you'll take care of Harper, right?"

Benvolio blinked, "What would ever happen to you?"

"Look, just answer the question. You'd take care of her for me, right?'

"This is a stupid question," Benvolio frowned, "She's yours now. You take care of her."

"Promise me," Conrad said fiercely, "Please."

"Um…okay. Sure, why not. But only till I find someone better," he half smiled to show it was a joke.

"There's no one better than Harper," Conrad grinned.

"I know."

* * *

They were on a mission. Technically, they were supposed to be hunting down the alleged serial muggle killer in Knightsbridge. However, the rain was thick and visibility was low, and they had actually given up the hunt awhile ago.

"I'm bored," Nadine smacked her lips together, "Why don't we go back to Willowcrest and you can show me your room, tiger?"

Casey frowned at the auror, "I don't know if you noticed, Nadine, but I have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, leave him alone, Nadine," Claudia Katarine drawled, "He doesn't want you."

"Get bent, CK," Nadine told her sister.

"So cruel. I'm gone," dramatically, Claudia Katarine apparated away. Seconds later, Nadine pursed her lips and followed. Casey frowned. He wasn't sure why he'd gotten stuck with the auror sisters for this mission in the first place. Just because he'd known them in the past, the headmaster seemed to feel it was his duty to baby sit them.

Speaking of babysitting, Casey wondered how Joshua was doing. He was supposed to report in the previous night, but Casey had been too distracted to notice. It was just as he was thinking this that Casey heard the noise and saw the flash of light. It had been dim in the constant downpour, but he'd seen it. Following his instinct, Casey ran in the direction of the commotion.

"Hello?" He called out against his better judgment, "Is anyone there? Do you need help?"

"No," to his surprise, the voice that replied was all too familiar, "No help needed here."

She giggled, but her voice sounded off. It was as if she was crying.

"Prue?" Making his way through the thick rain, Casey found Prue slumped at the side of a building. There was a dead man on the ground next to her, blood soaking his shirt.

"Prue," he gasped, "What happened? What are you doing here?"

"I don't know what happened! I thought Joshua was supposed to fix this!" she exclaimed in a choked sob, holding her head in her face, "I though this was supposed to stop!"

"Come back to Willowcrest with me," he said gently, "Then you can tell me what's happened."

"No Casey!" Prue screamed, startling him, "I won't go back with you. Not now, not ever!"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, thoroughly confused. The rain was getting thicker now; big, fat drops splattered on his nose and into his eyes, making it hard to see. The blood pooling around the man's body was dissipating into puddles created by the rain.

Realization hardening her features, Prue drove one hand into the thinning blood, her palm staining red. Pulling back, Prue lifted her hand, raindrops causing the stains of crimson to drip down the lines of her palm and onto her wrist. For a few seconds, it looked like she had cut open her veins.

"Do you see this? Casey Hargrove, do you see this?" she shrieked, voice laced with pain, "I killed this man. I don't care if a spell made me do it, I still killed him. I watched him die."

Her face scrunched up as more tears formed. The blood on her hand had already washed away, but she was still waving it around in the air like some sort of war trophy.

"I killed him," she sobbed, "I killed him."

"Prue, I know. It's okay," he tried to coax her into his arms, but she broke away.

"No Casey. It will never be okay."

And then she was gone. Casey was left alone in the rain, the poor dead man at his feet. He frowned. He should contact the main auror office about this. He should get this cleaned up quickly. The weird thing was, he didn't care. He just wanted to go after Prue.

* * *

He didn't see her again until two days later, no matter how many times he tried to contact her. It was late at night, after a class. At first, he was completely unaware she was there. Then that odd feeling that always told him someone was watching made him look up. Prue smiled grimly as Casey entered the room. He almost didn't notice his brother standing in the dark shadows of one corner, and couldn't tell which of the twins it was. His eyes were drawn to the moss eyed girl perched on his desk. She'd highlighted her hair to a faded, familiar white blonde, the long brown strands underneath the layer of blonde sticking out. It had all been tied back messily, as if she'd been rushed. She was wearing strappy cream colored heels and similarily familiar dress.

It looked almost like the dress she'd worn to his aunt's wedding so many years ago, he realized with a start. It wasn't something he'd normally remember; a girl's dress. But this was the one they'd first…well, he'd gotten the privilege of taking that particular dress off. This one was a soft pastel green in color, draping her body in supple folds and then pulling taut across her breasts. The thick straps of the dress had slipped off her shoulders and the skirt barely touched her knees. A cream colored sash had been tied artfully around her waist. A glint of metal caught his eyes in the knot of the sash and he recognized the gold, jewel encrusted key he'd given her when he was seventeen. They had buried her with it.

"What's going on?" Casey asked suspiciously, settling down on the big comfy couch he'd saved from the rain two years ago and had decided would fit perfectly in his office if he ever got one. The second he'd started teaching, he'd taken advantage of his new office and stuffed the couch in it.

Prue pursed her lips, as if what she had to say was distasteful, "It's not good Casey. Ellie convinced Joshua to take the curse off of me."

"How do you know?" he asked cautiously.

"She told me. They told me," a malicious grin flashed across Prue's face, and Casey felt his heart stop, "They also told Gradaver what a naughty little witch I'd been. You know, he'd noticed that I'd been avoiding the killing. He just hadn't thought it important."

At her words, his brother stepped out of the shadows and came to kneel right between Prue's knees. It was Conrad. He was dressed normally, in a green flannel button down emblazoned with gold lettering on the back and dark jeans. But there was something off about his eyes. He looked like the woodsman in Snow White. The great betrayer.

Conrad leaned in and touched his lips to Prue's. Right before it became a kiss, Casey heard her breathe, "I've got a new curse on me now."

Casey blinked. Then he laughed. Startled, Prue and Conrad broke apart.

"What's so funny?" Prue snapped.

"This," Casey gestured to them, "This is so…Hogwarts drama. Tell Gradaver that if he's trying to break me, he'll have to do better than making you kiss my little brother."

Prue snorted, and Conrad crumpled to the ground, "Funny, that's what I said too. Minimal, I told him there had to be sex involved, but he was insistent that there was no time. So I told him I had better ideas than creating this production. He doesn't listen to me…but you do. Mm, I like you Casey. You're fun to play with."

Even though he knew she was now completely under Gradaver's control, before she managed to apparate away he pulled her into a tight hug and mumbled into her hair, "I like you too."

One second she was in his arms. The next, she was gone. Conrad groaned from the floor, "Ow, my head."

With a big smile, Casey wandered up to his brother. Then he smacked him, hard.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Conrad demanded with a scowl.

"You moron. What kind of auror are you- letting yourself get imperius-ed into snogging my girlfriend?"

"One who's not an auror yet," his borther retorted, "Wait. I kissed Prue? Ew, you're right. I did!"

"What 'ew'? She's hot," Casey replied defensively.

"Yeah, but no offense; you guys are old."

"But she's hot," Casey tried again. When he was Conrad's age, he hadn't cared where it came from as long as it looked good.

Conrad raised an eyebrow, "Right. And old. Shit. I kissed another girl. What am I supposed to tell Harper?"

"You could always not tell her."

"Big bro…you're kind of a jerk, aren't you?"

"Whatever. Forget Harper. You ever lay your hands on my girl again and you won't be able to impress your girl without your pants on, ever again."

* * *

"I'm trying to explain, you know," Conrad told Harper, who had buried her nose furiously in a book.

"I know," she snapped, "I'm not mad at you. I can't believe that hag laid a finger on you."

Conrad watched Harper fume silently for a moment, and then said, 'I'm sorry."

She twirled around to face him, "I told you I'm not mad at you!"

"You sound mad," he replied meekly.

Face softening, Harper sighed, "I promise, I'm not mad at you. Come here."

Obediently, Conrad knelt before her and she lightly kissed his forehead. He kissed her cheek, and she in turn kissed his. Their lips finally met in a soft, sweet kiss.

Abruptly, Avarick's voice said, "Ahem. Am I interrupting?"

"Of course you are," Conrad replied unkindly, placing his arms around his girlfriend and squeezing her tightly.

"Con!" Harper exclaimed, but she didn't struggle.

"Anyway, glad to see you're so jolly. I'm actually looking for Chauncey. Have you seen him?"

"I heard he was going over to Nataraja," Conrad scratched his chin thoughtfully, "But I thought it was strange. Isn't Nataraja closed today?"

"I think so," Harper frowned, "Should we head over and check?"

Avarick nodded, explaining that she needed Chauncey's help with her Potions homework. The more scatter-brained twin happened to be an ace at potions.

They trudged through the moors slowly. The earlier rain had made the ground soft with mud and wet with puddles. When they reached the restaurant, it's windows stood dark and foreboding. Even the normal holiday lights that were strung up all year round were suspiciously dormant.

"The door's open," Avarick whispered fearfully.

"Oh just go in already," Harper pushed past them, wondering if she should call out for Shilpa. She heard a noise to her left, near the table they always sat at for lunch. Frowning, Harper flicked on the lights. The restaurant burst into radiant light, revealing two figures intertwined on Harper's lunch table.

"What in the name of bloody Merlin are you two doing?" Harper screeched, more stunned at the fact that her sacred table was being tarnished rather than the fact that she was watching someone who looked identical to Conrad get his brains snogged out.

Chauncey looked up guiltily, "Ah, well, see, Cherice here was just helping me practice- er I mean I was helping her practice for um, Romeo and Juliet. Her high school is doing it this spring and she er- wants to be Juliet?"

"Good job making all of that sound like a question," Conrad congratulated his brother.

Chauncey sat up, trying to smooth out his clothes while Cherice had already leapt to her feet, straightening her hair and the mini dress she wore that was showing off a little bit too much leg.

"What's all the commotion down here?" Shilpa's clear, sweet voice called out, "Chandrika?"

"It's alright didi," Cherice called back, but Shilpa was already half way down the stairs that lead up to the Macdougal family's apartment.

"Chandrika! What's happened to you? Chauncey?" Shilpa asked tentatively.

"They were practicing for a school play," Avarick announced, half amused, half annoyed.

"But…you're not in any school plays, Chandrika," Shilpa sounded confused. Conrad, Harper, and Avarick all snickered as both Cherice and Chauncey turned red.

After Cherice had been scolded and sent up to her room, Conrad guided Chauncey out of the restaurant. Shilpa was left sitting in the booth, miserably, Harper and Avarick across from her.

"I don't know what to do. Auntie left Chandrika in my care," Shilpa moaned, "And told me not to let her get into trouble."

"It could have been worse. Chauncey's a good guy," Harper bit back a smile, "Trust me. I've known him since forever ago."

Shilpa glanced up wearily, unsure whether to believe the girl who had stolen her boyfriend, "Do you truly think so? My family wouldn't like it…Maybe I should tell her she's not to see him."

"Don't tell her. Slap her up. You're her 'older sister', so act like it and slap her around like she deserves to be. Everybody needs to be slapped once in a while, everybody," Harper grinned, "Or you could just let them be for a while. As long as they don't get caught, what's the harm?"

"Yeah," Avarick agreed, "Conrad will keep his brother in check, so you take care of making sure Cherice makes good decisions and it's all good."

Shilpa cast them a timid smile, "You know, you guys aren't so bad. It's nice to have people my age around now."

"Not just people!" Avarick objected, mortified, "We're friends!"

"Friends?"

"Aren't we?" Harper asked carefully.

"Yeah," Shilpa smiled, "I think we are."

As they left the shop, Avarick crowed, "Yes! One small step for inter-muggle-wizard relations!"

"You're so weird," Harper shook her head at her friend. Still, she was glad. Chauncey had found someone, Shilpa was no longer peeved at her, and Avarick was finally coming out of her slump.

Plus, they were almost halfway through their first year at Willowcrest and no one had dropped out yet. Things were going great, weren't they? Harper felt something tight in her stomach, something cold touch her heart. No, she furiously shook it off; everything was going to be perfect. Everything.

* * *

Two weeks passed in complete and total peace, but Casey couldn't help feeling twitchy. He hadn't seen or heard from Prue even once since that time in his office. Nadine spent most of her time trying to lure him into her bed. Casey had never once thought that having a gorgeous woman chase him would be quite so tedious.

He didn't know whether to be surprised or relieved or just plain uninterested when he found Prue and Frank sitting in the classroom he was just about head into. His class would be there soon; actually, his brothers had already entered and were staring at the two intruders with hard looks.

"Casey," Prue giggled, "Long time no see."

Perplexed by their sudden unannounced appearance and on his guard, the redhead asked, "What are you doing here?"

Prue tilted her head and said in a childlike voice, "I just came by to visit…Conrad."

Mentally, Casey groaned. Conrad raised an eyebrow and made a facial expression that belied the fact he hadn't expected visitors.

Frank grinned, "A little birdie told me that he would be interested in an employment opportunity we have."

"What? Not when he's not spelled," Casey glanced at his brother, who was exchanging equally confused looks with Chauncey.

"He doesn't need a spell to want to join us, Hargrove," Frank grinned, "He'll come of his own free will."

"Right, like I would," Conrad retorted.

"Let me show you something," Frank motioned for the redhead to come closer, but Conrad wearily backed away.

"I'm not falling for any of your tricks, mate," Conrad informed him.

"Well that's no fun," Prue pouted.

"Go ahead and look," Casey encouraged him easily. He was confident that he could stop them in a second from forcing him to take a potion or from pulling their wands on the boy. Dubiously, Conrad stepped away from his brother, leaning in to look at something Frank cradled in his palm.

Casey and Chauncey never saw the moment when Conrad's eyes changed. They never saw a potion or a spell released, but when Conrad looked back up, his eyes were stony and he said to Prue and Frank, "Let's go."

"What?" Chauncey demanded, "Are you nutters?"

"Conrad," Casey objected. He hadn't seen anything happen. He honestly hadn't thought he was sending him into danger just by letting Frank show him something. Marching up the blonde, Casey swiped at his hand. Frank grinned and opened his palms. There was nothing there.

Casey made to dodge around the blonde and grab his brother's arm.

"_Cryoketos,"_ Prue whispered with a dark smile. Icicles shot out from her wand, coming within millimeters of Casey's face. Chauncey had already ducked under a table, but one of the icicles still speared the leg of his jeans. Casey heard him curse loudly, but he was already chasing down Frank, Prue, and Conrad. Chauncey discarded his pain and was on his feet in seconds.

He ran past Harper, Avarick, Benvolio, and Merlin in the hallway.

"What's going on?" Merlin called after Chauncey. When the redhead didn't answer, he started after him, Avarick on his heels. After a second's hesitation, Harper and Benvolio followed. They burst out of the manor onto the lawn, Prue, Conrad, and Frank turned to face them. They looked as though they were waiting for something.

"Damnit Prue, I made that spell," Casey was yelling, "What's the bloody idea using it against me."

The students gathered up behind Chauncey, wondering what in the world was going on. Then Harper saw Conrad, "Con?"

Conrad raised his eyes to meet hers, but he said nothing. His face was grimly set.

"What in the name of the seven hells are you doing?" Harper asked Conrad angrily.

Casey didn't give Conrad time to answer, instead aiming his wand at them all, "_Clypeus Niveus!"_

From the lawn a shield of blue rose from to trap the three, but they easily stepped over it.

"Casey, you'll never achieve anything if you don't shoot to kill," Prue purred, "_Cryokesio."_

Wisps of fog emerged from Prue's wand as she suddenly appeared behind him, trapping his hands in midair. With a smirk, Prue's lips grazed his cheek as she danced away from him. He broke out of the jinx and said, "You bloody- I told you to stop using my spells against me."

Prue just winked at him, then paused, sniffing the air like she was a canine. With a start, Casey saw both Frank and Conrad were doing the same.

A crack broke through the still air, and a man appeared behind Conrad, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. The redhead didn't react at all.

"Casey," Prue said, suddenly uneasy. It was like she was introducing her father or something, "I'd like you to meet Gradaver Moerte."

Gradaver was a tall man, with beyond pale skin and a perfectly haughty face. He was slender, in long black jeans and a tight, ripped black shirt. He had silver hair, held back in a high ponytail that fell down to his waistband. His eyes were jet black.

Avarick leaned over to Harper and whispered, "He's how old?"

"I just wanted to check that he was right for us," Gradaver said in a voice like gravel, "Are you, Conrad?"

Conrad turned to face the man and nodded, not meeting his eyes. Harper couldn't take it anymore. She ran towards Conrad, wrenching him away from Gradaver's grasp, "Conrad."

Roughly, Conrad shoved her away. She fell hard into the dirt, but Benvolio was at her side in a second, holding her back from trying to go after him once more.

Gradaver smiled, "This is good."

He apparated away before anyone had a chance to even volley a hex at him. Before Prue, Frank, and Conrad could follow, Harper rammed the side of her foot along Benvolio's shin and into the arch of his foot. At the same time, Chauncey lunged for his brother, holding him tightly.

"Conrad!" Harper screamed, breaking free of Benvolio's strong grasp, "Conrad, please!"

He turned towards her, pushing his twin away, "I can't. I can't do what you want, Harper."

"Why? Why would you join them?"

"I have no choice," he said regretfully. Prue and Frank were leaning casually against the wall, watching their newfound comrade fight. Harper thought she saw the three nod slightly in agreement.

"You always have a choice," Chauncey yelled from his newfound spot on the ground, "Always."

Avarick had buried her face into Merlin's side as Ben moved forward to retain Harper again.

"Leave her be, mate," Merlin said softly, causing Avarick to look up in surprise.

"I can't," Ben replied, "Harper, come away from him."

"Yeah Valente," Conrad's gaze turned cold, "Get away from me."

"Conrad Thaddeus-Roderick Hargrove," Harper snapped, "Don't you dare get tetchy with me when I'm trying to save your arse!"

Colder still, Conrad said, "Get away from me woman. I mean it. I hate you. I hate everything about you. And if you don't go do what your little boyfriend over there says this instant, I might just kill you. That's how much I hate you."

Harper took a step back, shocked. The wind in the valley was picking up, whipping her hair around her head so hard that she was sure it'd leave welt marks on her cheeks. Still, she stood her ground, "No."

Incredulous, Conrad demanded, "Excuse me?"

"I said no. If you want to kill me, do it. I don't care. Con, I love you."

Sadly, Conrad shook his head, "Sometimes that's not enough Harpy. You should know that."

He turned to walk towards his new allies. Prue held her arms out to the boy, and Harper panicked.

"Con!" she yelled, "Please don't go with them. Don't go with Gradaver!"

They were already gone.

"Please," Harper fell to her knees, whispering it over and over and over again, "Please, please, please."

"Harper," Ben tried, crouching next to her, "He's gone. They disapparated."

"No," Harper said furiously, "He'll come back."

"Valente," Merlin said, "I don't think he's coming back."

"No!" she screamed, "I know him, he'll be back."

So the three friends stood huddled around her. After ten minutes, she started to tremble. After half an hour, she started to sob. The wind had already started to howl, and the sky was blacker then pitch. Avarick broke away from Merlin's arms, "Harper, honey."

That was all she said as she wrapped her arms around her best friend, but it was all she had to say. The dark haired girl collapsed in the blonde's embrace, tears streaming down her face.

"I want to go home. Please Avarick, let's go home."

"Okay. Let's go home."

* * *

Three days had passed since Conrad had left Willowcrest, and Harper still hadn't left her bed.

"Ben, you've got to help," Avarick pleaded with the brunette.

Wearily, Benvolio lifted his eyes from his Advanced Defense text, "I've tried, Avarick. I've tried six times now, and she keeps rejecting me."

"You're just sore because you fancy her," Avarick said impatiently. When Benvolio tried to object she said, "No. Don't lie. You fancy her, and you can't stand that she told Conrad she loves him."

"Well…" he sighed, "I knew she loved him though. I mean, when I finally asked her out, she said no."

"Benvolio Asher, don't act like such a spoiled brat. If you want Harper, fight for her. Show her how much you like her. And aside from that, she's your friend. And Conrad's your friend. Don't you feel the least bit guilty for abandoning them both?"

"I did not abandon them," Ben replied impetuously.

"Okay. Then why didn't you try to convince Conrad to stay?" Avarick asked shrewdly.

"He wouldn't have listened."

"You don't know that."

"I could tell," Benvolio said softly, "I could tell he wouldn't stay. He told me two weeks ago to keep an eye on Harper. So I knew he didn't plan on coming back to us."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Avarick replied lightly, "Then hadn't you better convince Miss Valente to get out of bed? Or doesn't that fall under keeping an eye on her?"

"I guess it does."

When Benvolio reached Harper's room, Simone stood. She smiled guiltily, "I tried giving her some soup, but she wouldn't take it."

"Simone, that was…nice of you," Benvolio observed.

"Don't be getting used to it," she chuckled, and left the room.

Ben went to sit on Harper's bed. The dark haired girl was hidden under the covers, only her eyes peeking out, staring at the ceiling.

"Harper? Do you want to go to Nataraja? We haven't see Shilpa in the past two weeks, I bet we're losing discounts," he said softly. Harper turned over to face the wall.

"Maybe we could just stay here instead. We could go to the dining hall and talk?"

Harper ignored him again. Benvolio wasn't normally the type to get easily irritated. He hardly ever got mad, even. But Avarick had already gotten on his nerves today, so maybe that explained it. He ripped the covers off of Harpers bed, "Alright Valente, enough of this."

Mutely, Harper rolled to face him.

"I said that bloody enough," Benvolio yelled, "Conrad is gone."

"I know," she said meekly.

"Well-" he hadn't expected her to speak, and was startled.

He tried again, "Well, he's gone, and starving yourself to death isn't going to do him any good."

When that failed to move her, he said, "You know he wouldn't want you to sit in bed and mope like this."

"You don't know that."

"Well, if he would want you to do this, then he's a bloody prat who didn't deserve you in the first place. Now bloody get up, get dressed, and come eat dinner with me. You have five minutes."

Harper looked at him with something resembling awe, and said weakly, "Okay."

* * *

Casey had called an emergency meeting among the aurors at Willowcrest. Noah, Claudia Katarine, and Nadine all came, only to watch him sulkily nurse a bottle of Firewhisky at the local tavern.

"She took my brother," Casey muttered again wondrously, taking another shot of Firewhisky.

"She did indeed," Nadine observed coolly, "And I think you've had enough, tiger."

"Tiger, tiger," Casey mused, "A real tiger would have stopped her. But I didn't think she'd actually do it."

"She's an anomaly. A freak of nature. Casey, baby, no dead woman is meant to be alive."

"It's my fault she's dead," he said.

"What?" Noah asked. He'd been sitting quietly all this time, observing Casey's reaction. The dark shadows of the tavern flickered across the group in time with the dancing candlelight on their table.

"It's my fault she's dead- or that she died, I mean," Casey corrected himself in a half slur.

Coldly, Noah ordered, "Explain yourself, Hargrove."

"I should have protected her," Casey said miserably, "I could have protected her had I known what I know now."

"Damnit, you bloody fool," Noah exploded, "Don't you think I feel exactly the same way about Frank. We all have someone we could have- would have protected if we had been aurors. But you weren't an auror, you were a seventeen year old boy with a silly guitar and notions of grandeur. Get over yourself."

Casey looked up, blinked, and then took yet another shot.

"Casey," Noah advised, "I'm sure she has her reasons. Maybe Joshua…well, maybe not Joshua."

"Forget her," Nadine urged, "I'll make all your thoughts of her disappear."

"I doubt this is the time," Claudia Katarine informed her sister, who ignored her.

"I'm not going to forget Prue. You didn't make me forget her last time, so what makes you think you can this time?" Casey asked Nadine as icily as he'd ever spoken. The woman haughtily shook her mane of dark hair and made a disgruntled noise.

"That speck of a girl could never match me," Nadine finally said.

The redhead raised an eyebrow, "I think she has. Looks, personality, intelligence- face it, Ebony," he emphasized her auror name, "You've been tracking her for years and she's evaded you. You've been after me, and she beat you. Just give up."

"You aren't," Nadine countered.

Dejectedly, Casey replied, "I'm in love. Ain't it grand?"

"Love and hate aren't so different. They're just strong emotions going in opposite directions. If you could turn your love into hate," when Casey pointedly glared at her, Claudia Katarine raised her hands defensively, "It was just a suggestion."

"Come on, Casey, come with me," Nadine purred, pulling the drunken redhead off his stool, "I shall take away all your pain."

He didn't resist. Noah watched him start to follow her. The expression on Casey's face said that he didn't believe Nadine could make anything go away, but that he was willing to let her try- or at least was too numb to stop her. Come on, Hargrove, Noah urged mentally, think. The older auror thought that if Casey's feeling for Prue were really as strong as he always claimed, he wouldn't be so stupid, even in light of this betrayal. Not if there was still some level of doubt. After all, he'd already made the mistake of not trusting her once before, back in Hogwarts. Even though this was an entirely different situation for Casey, an alarm still should have been going off in his head.

Casey stopped and let go of Nadine's hand. Noah had never been prouder.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked in her heavy accent.

"I don't want you. Leave," Casey told her, "You too CK. Take your sister and go. Somewhere far away, if you'd so oblige."

"Sure, Casey. You know I wish I could say yes to that," Claudia Katarine's eyes hardened, "I'll take her, but we'll be in London, hunting your girlfriend. Don't cross us."

Casey met his friend's suddenly belligerent gaze, "We'll see."

The two gorgeously deadly aurors apparated away with a thunderous crack. Casey collapsed back onto his stool, then levelly met Noah's eyes, "Tell me what you know."

"What?"

"You never call me Casey unless you're feeling guilty. What reasons do you think she has? What do you know?" he asked in a hard voice.

"To tell the truth..." Noah paused, squeezing his eyes shut, "I told Frank to take Conrad."

* * *

End of Chapter 7 


	8. The Headstrong Blackbird

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 8: The Headstrong Blackbird_

A/N: So I haven't updated for a while because I had a bout of writer's block (for all my stories) and then I was struck by inspiration for my stories Wild Hunt and The Witching Hour (on Go read, you'll like them! (They're under the same pen name on Also, if you want to check out cool Giddy Brew/Poison Fairytales art, go to divingsiren. or taito. and check out our galleries. I'm the unskilled one (taito) and my Fishy is divingsiren. She has some amazing fanart up. If you search giddy brew on also you can come up with some other fanart.

I ADORE fanart.

Ahem, but I think Wild Hunt has ruined me. It tempts me to write smutty, smutty things. Therefore I hold no responsibility over any rather unconscionable acts on Harper Valente's part herein.

Meant for this to be a LOT longer by the way. Promise the next one will be.

* * *

It had been a month. An entire month, but nobody had heard a word from Conrad. Harper shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The old, dirty town pub gave her the heebie-jeebies in more ways than one. Old wizards and muggles alike were giving her rather lewd looks, and not for the first time she wished they'd stayed at Nataraja. However, lately Shilpa had taken to breaking into tears and demanding why Conrad didn't visit anymore. They'd tried to tell her he was visiting his sick mother back home, but Chauncey refused to play the game, and his face had given away their lie.

Chauncey was probably taking Conrad's disappearance harder than anyone. He ignored Cherice when she tried to make conversation and that very afternoon had stomped out of the restaurant in a rage. Seconds later, a sullen Avarick had excused herself as well. Which was why Harper now found herself alone in a dark booth in the pub, waiting for Benvolio to return from the loo.

On top of that, she felt like an incredible wretch. Why she'd let Benvolio convince her that a 'group play-date' would be fun, she'd never know. She missed Conrad like crazy and spent every waking minute wondering why he'd left with that complete hag, Prue. What were they holding over his head?

Benvolio finally slid into the seat across from her and asked in a falsely cheerful voice, "Did you order yet?"

"No."

"Oh, why not?"

"I don't like fish and chips," Harper replied petulantly.

"Then order something else," he told her tolerantly. That was one of Benvolio's most annoying traits; he put up with absolutely everything. Not like Conrad, who called her out whenever she got up to no good.

"I don't want anything else," Harper sighed.

"Come on, Harper," he said gently, "You've barely eaten all day. I thought you'd finally gotten your appetite back."

"Not so much," Harper muttered, immediately feeling bad. Benvolio did try to be patient, like she was a beloved younger sister or something, and she was acting the part of a spoiled brat. Truthfully, she really hated the way everyone except Chauncey seemed to be tiptoeing around her, like she was going to burst into tears at any second.

Please, she'd stopped doing that after the second week.

"Fine. I'll get this," Harper relented, pointing to the menu.

Benvolio beamed, "Great. I'll grab the waiter."

Sullenly, Harper nodded and buried her head into her arms.

"Now what's a beautiful gal like you got to be so glum about?" a strong male voice interrupted her moody brooding.

"Not interested, gramps," Harper snapped without lifting her head.

Instead of being put off, the voice continued, "Did some redheaded wanker go and leave you in your time of need?"

"What?" Harper raised her eyes, taking in the boy standing before her. He was younger than she'd thought; her age in fact. He had rust colored hair and smoldering eyes that shifted from ruby to deep brown. He didn't take much care in dressing as a muggle, choosing simple jeans and a black shirt under his dark cloak, but his trainers were old and worn. His hair had been darker and longer, but less shaggy the last time she'd seen him, but everything else was the same.

"Agate!"

"Harper!" he mocked her surprised gasp.

"But what are you doing here? Who's that, your girlfriend?" Harper demanded, noticing the slight blonde behind him. She was so petite that Harper could have used her simple white shift as a t-shirt, if she could manage to force her body into it. There was also a tall, serious looking brunette boy standing next to the girl.

Agate Ramsey shrugged, sliding into the seat beside her, "Oh, them? Strays, I picked them up in London."

The brunette boy coughed indignantly and said in an American accent, "Hardly. I'm Lachlan Fletcher, and this is Apollonia Narciso."

"Er- nice to meet you."

Apollonia curtsied, and Lachlan nodded his head curtly as they also slid into the booth across from them. Benvolio had returned, and was glancing confused at the table. Finally he spoke, "I have nowhere to sit."

"Sorry mate. Pull up a chair," Agate smirked. Benvolio frowned, but obligingly pulled a chair away from the bar and sat at the end of the booth. His knees came up so high on the stool that they were over the table.

"Ben, this is Agate, uh, Lachlan and Appollonia. And they're here because…?"

"Well, actually I heard about Conrad," Agate started.

"How?"

"You know, surprisingly, that twin bastard of his owl-ed me. Seemed to think you could use some company," Agate raised an eyebrow, "That true?"

Harper felt her cheeks warm, partially from embarrassment, and partially out of thankfulness. Chauncey apparently did have a warm and fuzzy spot somewhere inside.

"Maybe," she admitted.

"Well anyway, I got myself all the way out to London, when these two tourists tugged on my robes and asked if I knew the way to Willowcrest."

"We're not tourists," Lachlan corrected gruffly, "We're here to visit our friend."

"Let me guess," Benvolio ventured, "Merlin Pembroke."

"Yes!" Appollonia brightened. Her voice was so saccharine that Harper thought she might die of a sugar overdose, "How'd you know?"

"Merlin's the only American in the school right now," Benvolio replied.

"What about Zillah? She went to Shimmercobble," Harper interrupted.

"Does Zillah Carew really seem like the type to have friends like this?"

"Zillah's evil," Appollonia affirmed in a whine.

"Enough talk about them. Let's talk about me. Or you. Either, really," Agate interjected, "Why on earth would you get back together with Hargrove? I thought you two were so done that you couldn't even stand the sight of each other."

Benvolio frowned and crossed his arms, "I don't know if you should talk about-"

"He thinks you're too fragile to talk?" Agate asked with a quirked brow, "Or is there some sort of sexual tension there? Oh, was he Hargrove's love-enemy?"

"Agate," Harper chided.

"What? You two were on a date, no?"

"A group date," Harper corrected, "Chauncey and our friend Avarick were here, but they had issues."

"Is this Avarick bird cute?"

"Sure," Harper replied easily, laughing for what felt like the first time in weeks.

"By the way, Harpy, you didn't even give my good mate Ben and I a proper introduction. That's probably why I'm misinterpreting the situation, you know," Agate said wisely.

"You're such a jackass," she smiled, and turned to Ben, "Agate went to Hogwarts with Con, Chauncey, and I. He was one of our best friends."

"And I was a Hufflepuff, which made me considerably better," Agate quipped.

"I'll never understand that. You made the worst Hufflepuff ever."

"Well that hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor, but red did clash so with my hair at the time."

"You were eleven! You didn't care."

Agate solemnly replied, "Oh no, Harpy. Even at a young age, one can never afford to let their image go."

"Are you gay?" Benvolio interrupted rudely, but Harper saw that his eyes were wide. He was earnest.

"Heavens no," Harper laughed. Agate looked torn between being insulted and making a joke.

"I am of the persuasion that all ladies love a man who knows his witch-wear," Agate replied finally.

Benvolio looked like he didn't buy that answer, but he stayed quiet.

Harper giggled, "No, Agate was really popular in school. He had like, eighty different girlfriends. Who was the last one?"

"Ah! Xaverie Hayes, the most lovely girl. I stole her from Conrad the last time he got back together with you. So I suppose it wasn't really stealing, persay…But then she broke my heart, and I started up with Lucy Emmanuelle. Then she-"

"We get the picture, Agate."

"And since then I've found no new conquests. Shame, as a healer I thought I'd meet loads of young, nubile witches. Alas, the pickings are neither young nor nubile."

Lachlan asked, "You're a healer?"

"Well not yet, obviously. I only graduated Hogwarts last year. But I'm attending the Maplewood Seminar, and hopefully I'll graduate in two years. It's quite fun."

"You're so full of it," Harper told him, "How many spells have you botched already?"

"Oh, twenty or so. But the headmistress finds me charming," Agate clucked his tongue and cocked his head, "Don't you?"

"Charmingly idiotic," Harper grinned. She was so happy to see her old friend that she'd almost forgotten for a minute. Memories of days at Hogwarts with Agate, Chauncey, and Conrad had come flooding back to her with such ferocity that Harper had been overcome. Now the sadness was slowly seeping back into her bones. Her face fell.

"Oh, don't be like that Harpy. Ben, mate, why would you bring her to this horribly depressing place. So dank and dark. Lets go out in the light."

"We live in Britain, mate," Benvolio replied scathingly, "There is no light."

Sure enough, it was raining outside again. But Agate seemed completely un-phased by this fact, "I know a way to cheer up my golden eagle."

"Your what?" Harper scowled. Agate had been calling her that since third year, when Professor Berkeley, the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts had lectured them about Harpies. Apparently there had once been a time when they were called 'virgin eagles'. Agate had decided that Harper was not a virgin, although at thirteen she'd been very much one, and took to calling her a golden eagle instead.

"Because of that little halo you always wear, Saint Harper," he'd joked.

"How can I be a saint and not a virgin?" she'd inquired lightly.

"Because you're a good person," he'd replied seriously. It had never much made sense to her, but then name had stuck.

"You heard me," Agate replied mischievously.

"I know what you're thinking," she told him suspiciously, "It won't work. I will not."

"Liar," he teased.

Lachlan was apparently a poor sport at conversation, "Would you two stop your yapping and take us to Willowcrest? You're obviously not eating here."

"Calm down," Appollonia told the brunette soothingly, but he seemed about as composed as he had been since they first met.

"I think that's a good idea. Let's go back to Willowcrest Harper," Benvolio stood, grabbing hold of her wrist. Startled, Harper tried to scramble over Agate in the booth, but ended up twisted awkwardly in his lap.

"'ello," Agate smirked, his dark eyes meeting her shocked turquoise ones.

"What's the big hurry, Ben?" Harper asked angrily, turning to face the dark haired boy. She carefully managed to extricate herself from Agate's lap.

"Nothing," Benvolio replied earnestly, "It's just our guests are giving me bad vibes. The look a bit anxious to go see Merlin."

Harper examined Lachlan and Appollonia. Lachlan was wearing what seemed to be his trademark scowl, and Appollonia's pretty face looked drawn and dark.

"Yeah, you're right," she admitted finally, "Let's go."

The group gathered up their things and trudged their way out of the village. Benvolio tried his best to act like a gracious tour guide, pointing out the few sights that the village had to offer. When they finally reached the sprawling manor, Harper lead the group the boy's side of the hall. On the way, they passed Professor Weslen and Professor Hargrove having a hushed, angry conversation.

"I told you, I'm done talking to you," Professor Hargrove growled at the older man.

"Casey, I told you-" Professor Weslen glance furtively at the group of students and guests passing by, "We'll finish this later."

"No," Professor Hargrove muttered, "it's already finished."

Harper opened her mouth to ask her teachers if everything was alright, but realized that it was none of her business. Helping Professor Hargrove investigate his stupid hag of a girlfriend with Conrad had made her feel closer to the older Hargrove than she should have, but without Con around, Harper realized that he was still her teacher. It was inappropriate to feel so close to him. So, lowering her eyes, she continued to head the group past the two men.

She paused in front of Merlin and Phinny Kleinberg's door, "This is it."

"Great," Appollonia breathed, knocking hard.

Merlin appeared, hair tousled and sleepy eyed. Surprised, he exclaimed, "Appollonia! Lachlan! What are you guys-"

"Merlin, who is it?" they heard Zillah's voice call from inside the room.

"Uh- no one," Merlin carefully came out into the hall, closing the door behind him, "Why are you guys here?"

"We need to talk," Lachlan said gravely, eyeing the door behind Merlin, "Was that Zillah Carew?"

"None of your business, man," Merlin replied breezily, "Do you need to talk too, Valente?"

"Nope," Harper smiled sweetly, "I'm just the messenger. Let's go, guys."

Agate and Benvolio obediently followed behind her as she retreated to the door of Ben, Chauncey, and Conrad's room. She let herself in without asking Benvolio's permission, knowing that the boys never locked the door.

Chauncey was staring dejectedly out the window. He didn't even glance up when they entered.

"Wow. Mate, I got to say, this is pathetic," Agate announced, plopping down beside Chauncey on the bed. The red haired boy looked up, startled.

"You're awfully quick, Ramsey. Didn't I just owl you this morning?"

"I had nothing better to do," Agate replied breezily.

"Git," Chauncey retorted lamely, burying his face into the crook of his arm, "I bet you were worried about us."

"About you two? Nah, I was worried about our fair Ben here. He does seem too delicate a soul to deal without you and that barbaric woman," Agate pointed at Harper, who scowled.

"She is an Amazon, isn't she?" Chauncey chuckled humorlessly.

"Yes, but enough about her. Women, my friend, are not the center of the universe. Men are so much easier, for all things. Now, are you having some sort of identical twin withdrawal thing going on? That's so cliché, mate."

Chauncey barked in reply, "What do you know?"

"I know that our dear Conrad wouldn't sit around and mope like this if you disappeared- no, that's a lie, he would. He was always more emo than yourself, but for hypotheses' sake, lets say that he would actually throw a party upon your absence."

"You talk too much," Chauncey interrupted.

"So I've been told," Agate narrowed his eyes and threw and arm around the redhead's shoulders, "But haven't you missed me?"

"Yeah," Chauncey admitted, leaning his head onto Agate's shoulder.

Harper smiled. Agate always had been the one who got them to open up to each other during the bad times. He was a peace keeper more than anything else.

"I propose," Agate said thoughtfully to no one in particular, "I propose that instead of laying around like boring, pathetic sods, we attempt to try to find dear Conrad."

"Don't you think we thought of that?" Chauncey demanded.

Harper frowned, "Um…have we thought of that?"

"I think Professor Hargrove's been looking for him," Benvolio input, looking as though he found Agate's very presence distasteful.

"Of course big bro's been looking for him," Chauncey snapped, although he didn't look completely sure of that fact.

"Yes, but you do know that the older faction doesn't know Conrad the way we do. Where would a twenty year old boy who was up to no good be in the middle of the spring season?"

"Looking for information? Killing people? How the bloody hell would I know?" Chauncey asked irately.

"Say he is looking for information. Or killing people," Harper said, "Why would he have to be anywhere? He gets his orders from Gradaver now, I'd assume."

"But," Agate started with a pensive look, "If that's true, why would Gradaver specifically have targeted Conrad? Wouldn't any random person have done?"

"He wanted to hit our big bro where it hurts," Chauncey replied bluntly.

"Perhaps that was an added benefit. But you know, Conrad used to be quite popular when he was in Hogwarts. Remember how he used to sweet talk the teachers?"

Benvolio choked, "Our Conrad? He seems a bit gruff now."

"No. He did have a knack for that sort of thing," Harper recalled fondly.

"So maybe Gradaver pulled Conrad in to help obtain information in a less…direct manner than the rest of them," Chauncey sighed, "That's what you're thinking, right?"

"Yeah."

"But again, why Conrad? I'm sure there were some good options out there on the street."

"You said it before. To hit not just your brother, but this entire academy where it hurts."

"I think this whole idea of yours doesn't seem plausible," Benvolio informed the rust haired boy.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Agate shrugged, "Can you think of a better idea?"

"Not really."

"So we look in London. The ministry lackeys fresh out of Hogwarts all have flats in London," Agate replied simply.

Benvolio wrinkled his nose, "We look in the bars?"

"And the pubs?" Harper gasped.

"This is stupid."

"But it's something we can do," Agate clarified, "Rather than sitting around helpless."

After a moment of silence, Chauncey said, "You know, I haven't gotten hammered in quite a while."

"That's because we're not allowed!" Benvolio gasped.

"Oh, lighten up Ben," Harper scowled, eyes lighting up at the thought of going to London, "We're doing this for Conrad…"

"Really? Because it sounds like you and Chauncey are doing this to get drunk."

Chauncey and Harper lowered their eyes, ashamed. Agate crossed his arms, "You know, Ben, you don't have to come."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"Then don't," Chauncey said sadly, "If you don't care…"

"Scratch that," Ben replied crossly, glaring at his roommate, "I guess I'm coming."

Chauncey immediately brightened, "Great. You can buy the first round!"

* * *

"Casey, you got an owl from CK," Noah said quietly as he passed the red-haired professor in the hall, "I put the letter in your office."

Quietly, Casey walked past his once friend. He didn't even lift his gaze.

"Casey," Noah tried again, but Casey continued to walk. Finally, too frustrated to do anything else, Noah chased after the man, grabbing his shoulder. Casey swung around, dark blue eyes fierce.

"Bloody 'ell. What do you think you're doing, Weslen?"

Noah sighed, "Look mate, I'm just trying to figure out a way to make it up to you."

"Well you can't," Casey growled, "If you're worried that I'll never forgive you, you don't have to. I'll quell that fear right here and now. I will never in all my life forgive you for being the biggest idiot in the entire United Kingdom. If you're worried about what will happen next, don't. I'm going to fix this."

"You could at least let me help," Noah worried, "You know, a step towards redemption?"

"How can I let you redeem yourself when I don't even know why you did it in the first place?" Casey blared.

"Oh," Noah looked properly chastened, nervously tugging on his tie.

"Care to share?" Casey quirked an eyebrow expectantly. Noah opened his mouth to say something, but after a moment's pause closed it again. At that moment, the duo saw Harper, Benvolio, and a trio they'd never seen before wander by.

"I told you, I'm done talking to you."

"Casey, I told you-" Noah saw Harper and her little gang watching him, "We'll finish this later."

"No," Casey scowled, glaring daggers at the older man, "it's already finished."

* * *

Harper had decided that London pubs were oh so much better than the pubs around Willowcrest. For one thing, they didn't mind if you danced on the bars. Well, okay, the first couple they'd visited hadn't really appreciated Harper getting boot scuff marks all over their nice shiny counter top. Actually, almost all of them had. But finally they'd stumbled upon a lovely, seedy little joint that let you take double shots of Jameson between each and every rum and coke. The only down side, or so Chauncey and Agate were quick to point out, was that it happened to be a muggle bar. The two boys happened to be sucking down Irish Car Bombs, a delightful blend of the aforementioned whiskey, Guiness, and some creamy Bailey's. Benvolio was taking turns watching Harper turn a slow, sexy dance and glaring at the boys guzzling down their liquor like there was no tomorrow. Finally, when a rather handsome young man tried to scramble up on to the bar with her; or more particularly when he tried to inch up the pink and gray striped shirt Harper had changed into, Benvolio decided it was an opportune time to perform a well placed jinx.

"Guys," Benvolio nudged Chauncey, "Conrad's not here. I think it's time to go."

"Noooo," Chauncey slurred, "Ish time to go dance with Harpy."

Agate clapped his hands delightedly, "Do it, do it."

Taking the other wizard's advice, Chauncey walked purposefully up to the bar. Harper saw him coming, and with a silly grin she helped the twin up to where she was. They started in on a rather lewd, grinding dance which made Benvolio shake his head in shame. Especially once Harper convinced the pretty barmaid to pour liquor straight out of the bottle into her and Chauncey's mouths.

"So…you're faking it, aren't you," Benvolio asked Agate, sighing as he took a seat on the stool next to the boy.

"No clue what you're talking 'bout," Agate replied happily.

"Sure you don't. I saw you walk to the loo before. Made a line straight as an arrow," Ben mused.

"Oh fine. But don't tell them," Agate gestured to his two friends on the bar, "If they knew I could hold my alcohol better than them, they'd skewer me."

On the bar top, Harper and Chauncey had finally tired of dancing. With the help of- well, each other, they clumsily made their way down on to good, solid linoleum. Feet firmly planted for a whole two seconds, the two immediately decided it was time to take a seat. Once they'd found two empty chair, Chauncey asked with a skewed grin, "What do you say, Harper. One more?"

Before getting her answer, Ben had already waved over the barmaid with two tiny shot glasses full of sloshing liquid.

Harper glanced tentatively at the shot, "Well, what is it that Merlin always says? Go big or go home."

With that resolution, both downed their shots.

"I guess Conrad's not here," Harper coughed, having trouble keeping this last bit down.

"No," Chauncey chuckled, "But did you really expect him to be?"

"No," Harper admitted. She glanced down at the bottom of the shot, wishing for more.

"You'll be okay, you know?" he asked with an odd expression.

"Okay?" Harper asked with a blank smile.

"Yeah," Chauncey nodded, "Right here."

He pressed a finger into the center of her chest and cast her a weary smile. Harper grimaced as she realized her feelings had shown more plainly than she'd wanted.

"Thanks, Chaunce," Harper replied meekly.

"No problem," he replied, walking away. Actually, he was only walking over to Ben and Agate, but for some reason it felt more significant for Harper. She really had expected to see Conrad. Whenever Professor Hargrove wanted to see Prue, she always seemed to turn up. So how come Harper was desperately wishing to see a certain redhead, said boyfriend was nowhere to be found?

Seeing that Chauncey had finally abandoned Harper, Agate grabbed his chance. Coming up behind Harper, Agate said, "Feeling blue?"

"No. Not at all," Harper responded despondently.

The boy placed his arms around her shoulders, leaning his chin on her collarbone.

Agate sighed, "Love is a terrible thing. When the person you love is nearby, your world is filled with light and happiness. In your heart, you're finally content. But the second that person is out of your sight, you're filled with loneliness. It's not so much that you fear being alone, but you're full of longing for the light that's missing. And eventually the longing turns into fear, and wonder as to why the person you love left. The fear, along with the nagging insecurity and bitterness eventually takes over."

"That's pretty deep. I didn't know you had it in you."

"I know a lot of things about love," he replied casually, "For instance, people idealize love too often. You know that whole cliché about only one person having the power to make you cry, and that person never wanting to abuse it? That's not true. The person who loves you might want to make you cry sometimes, on purpose. They'll regret it, of course, but there are instances where they want to see what kind of power they have over you. Being able to make you burst into tears on command, well, that's power."

"Power and love aren't the same."

"Sometimes they are. No love is perfect," Agate flashed her a cheeky grin, "Isn't this a depressing topic?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe. I guess my own experience with love has been so tumultuous that the whole thing ceases to effect me."

"I never would have guessed," Agate drawled, "Who was on the list? Let's see…"

He started ticking off fingers with each name, "Daljeet Singh."

"DJ was nice," Harper objected.

"Then Lionel Masterson."

"Okay…I can't defend that one."

"Then…Con, was it?"

"No. Then it was you," Harper replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Right, I was so traumatized that I must have repressed it. And then Conrad."

"Yeah."

"And then Eros Parker. I will never understand that one…"

"You don't have to."

"And then Conrad again. And then this Ben chap, and now Con again? I'm sensing a theme."

"You're a great berk, you know that?" Harper told him with a scowl.

"I'm just saying, the classiest guy you dated was me."

"If it comes down to you or nothing, I don't mind being alone," Harper retorted, standing. Unfortunately standing didn't come so easily.

"Whoa there," Agate caught the girl, "Ben, Chaunce! Time to go, methinks."

* * *

Once they had Harper all properly tucked in, Benvolio and Agate fled the room. Agate had lied and told the two boys that he wanted to make sure she didn't lapse into vomiting while she slept, even though he was pretty sure that the dark haired girl was fine. She was lying flat beneath her covers in her little turquoise shorts and halter, practically snoring.

Smirking, Agate drew back the sheets. He ran a hand along the plains of Harper's stomach, stopping just below her breasts. Exhaling, Harper sleepily slapped away his hand and rolled to her side. Taking it as an invitation, Agate sat beside her. Gently, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her cool cheek.

"Mmm," Harper sighed, rolling back over to face him, entwining an arm around his waist.

Agate placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to meet his. Softly, he pressed his lips to hers. He shifted his body down on the bed so that they were pressed together, deepening the kiss. Even in her sleep, she kissed him back, arms tightening around him.

Harper moaned into Agate's mouth, "Conrad…"

Breaking away, Agate released the limp girl's body. Lovingly, he ran a finger along the line of her chin, "Heh. So you really do love Hargrove, hmm?"

"You know, in some countries, including our own I think, they call that sexual assault," a girlish voice broke through the darkness.

"Oops," Agate turned to see Avarick Tyler standing over him in her sky blue pajamas with her arms crossed. He'd met her earlier, when Harper had stopped by her room to change for bar hopping, "We have ourselves a voyeur."

Avarick raised an eyebrow, "She only thinks of Conrad you know. I've been told Ben tried, but…"

"I know," Agate replied with a cheeky grin, "I've known the two of them much longer than you."

"Which gives you the right to sneak her kisses past midnight?"

"Possibly…I plan on protecting her. Don't get me wrong, I love Harper like a sister."

"Do you snog your sisters?"

"On occasion. No, seriously. I find this girl bloody attractive, but for Conrad's sake, I backed off. I can't help it if he's a gigantic prat and gave himself up to the dark side. However, I would still never make a move. She'd slap me, for one thing. And also I'm rather curious to see where their little love story will go."

"You're kind of sick, you do know that?" Avarick smiled slyly, "If you'd like, I could leave you two alone?"

"No need, milady," Agate replied charmingly, "I've been up to enough mischief for tonight."

"I'd say so," with a wink, Avarick wandered back into her bed, pulling the sheets over her head just in case Agate changed his mind.

Agate smiled. She was cute. He didn't want to be accused of going after anything with legs and a rather nice bosom, but…He waved the thought away. That was an endeavor for another day. Pulling the blanket tightly over Harper, Agate stood, "Good night, and sweet dreams."

* * *

"Professor Hargrove?" Harper knocked lightly on the doorframe. Class had been over for several hours, but Casey was still seated at his desk, staring blindly at the auror reports from London.

Glancing up, Casey wearily removed his glasses and started to clean them, "Oh, hey Valente."

"Any news on Con?" Harper asked, indicating the reports on his desk.

"No. CK sends me word occasionally, but she's a little mad at me. Something about dating a dark witch, blah, blah, blah. The accent shows up even in her writing; it's hard to discern."

"Has…has Prue shown up?"

"No. This entire thing is so stupid. If Elanore hadn't caught Joshua, the imperius curse would still be working fine, and she never would have tried to sway Conrad. At least, I don't think," Casey's face darkened at the thought of Noah's betrayal, "But on the other hand, I can't figure out what exactly they used to convince Conrad to switch sides. He couldn't be stupid enough to worry about our family's safety, with an auror and two in training to protect them. Not to mention all our body guards."

"You guys are way too rich for your own good."

"I know," Casey replied with an amused grin, "I doubt my baby brother would have worried about his friends either, or even…"

"Me?"

"Yes, well, he knows you can take care of yourself. You've had all the training he has."

"Plus my animagi form is better," Harper interjected snootily.

"There is that. And anyone who hasn't gone to Willowcrest would automatically get auror guards if they'd been threatened. For the life of me, I don't know what they would have used to persuade him."

"Perhaps they had already taken something," Harper said thoughtfully.

"Ideas?"

"No," she sighed, coming to sit in front of him on the desk. He smiled and moved from his comfy chair to sit next to her.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course," Harper blinked, "You're the teacher."

"Chauncey…he's taking this hard, isn't he?"

Harper was startled. She hadn't thought that Casey would ask her about his own little brother, "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

She didn't mean it to sound rude, and Casey didn't take it as such. Instead he ran a hand through his hair and replied, "I can't talk to him. We're not close that way."

"Maybe its time to become close that way. I mean, they're twins. They're supposed to be, like, connected. He's got to be hurting, since he had no idea this was coming," Harper frowned as she remembered the way Chauncey had comforted her. She hadn't made any move to make him feel better, had she?

"I can't imagine. Growing up, I was closest to my older brother Cerulean and my younger brother Cherridy. The rest of my brothers were kind of…useless to me."

"That's pretty harsh," Harper whistled.

Ruefully, Casey smiled, "I guess. I wasn't exactly known for my thoughtfulness as a teenager. Or now, really. I'm selfish. I get what I want, when I want. And now I'm wondering if, in trying to get Prue, I was the one who endangered my brother."

Rather than do what any normal person would do, Harper replied, "Of course you are. This is completely your fault. Oh, I know Professor Weslen screwed up- I don't know how, mind, but I know he did. But the only reason Conrad became involved with Prue in the first place is because of you."

Casey scowled, "You needn't be so cruel about it."

"Well, tact is stupid. All that not saying what needs to be said. On the other hand," Harper continued, "It's not like you could have stopped Prue from coming into your life again. I mean, if she'd stayed dead like any normal person would have, then we wouldn't be having this dilemma. But because she didn't stay dead, of course she eventually ended up colliding with you again. That's how destiny works. The only way you could have spared Conrad is to have never become friends, lovers, whatever with her in the first place."

Casey blatantly stared, "That was kind of deep. And destiny? I don't know if I believe in that. Sodding load of-"

"The point is," Harper enunciated, "That you and Prue couldn't have stopped this. You guys fought to be with each other, haven't you then?"

"How did you know?"

"That's how love works, fool. You fight and you bleed and you make a complete idiot of yourself trying to just be near another person, and even then it's essentially a doomed battle. Futile. Completely and utterly a bloody futile war. But," Harper shrugged, "It's been that way for all time."

"You're kind of wise for a trainee."

"You're kind of stupid for a professor," Harper replied in a snarky tone.

"You might be failing muggle studies," Casey countered smugly.

"That's impossible. I am a muggle!"

It was a complete mistake. A fluke. Something that never should have happened. But Harper's exclamation must have reminded Casey of Prue, and Casey's red hair must have reminded Harper of Conrad (although they looked not much alike), and somehow they had fallen upon each other, all lips and hands and hot, steamy breath.

They broke apart seconds later, red faced and mortified. Both jumped up, facing each other with their arms tightly crossed around their bodies.

"That NEVER happened," Casey informed Harper.

The dark haired girl huffily replied, "If you tell Conrad, I'll kill your arse. Auror or no."

"They'll never find your body if anybody every finds out about this."

"Agreed."

* * *

R and R is greatly appreciated. Er…and the Casey/Harper thing was necessary for my amusement. It will not be continued or mentioned, except to annoy Conrad.

Preview…

"Don't let anyone tell you that you're not strong enough."

And...more on Serendipity's involvement in this, the progression of an actual plot, what Dana and Samael are up to, Agate manages to piss everyone off, and Conrad makes his grand reappearance as a baddie. A sexy, drool worthy baddie.

Screw Harper, I want Conrad. Or Casey. Or...damn, too many boys to choose from. I want them all!


	9. May The Living Be Dead In Our Wake

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 9: May the Living Be Dead In Our Wake_

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Whoever guesses what band the title's from wins a cookie. Or perhaps a free ficcy of your liking. And come on guys, this is a really easy one.

* * *

In the space of a single week, Agate Ramsey had taken over Willowcrest. He had charmed each and every professor into letting him sit in their lectures. He had wormed his way into each and every student's…well, their conversations, if not their hearts. Even the older trainees were enchanted by Agate's absolutely uninhibited manner.

Only Casey Hargrove seemed to be developing an issue with Agate, and that was mostly because he refused to quite pestering him to find Conrad. The night Casey finally gave in, he agreed to have dinner with Harper, Chauncey, and Agate at The Three Broomsticks. He figured that was far enough away from Willowcrest that he wouldn't have to be wary of Noah listening in. Meanwhile its proximity to Hogwarts offered a sort of comfort that Casey had missed.

However, Agate's proposal made him a little too uncomfortable for the boy's own good.

"Absolutely not," Casey said firmly, "I already have trained aurors on the job-"

"Including yourself?" Chauncey snorted.

"Yeah," Casey replied with a dark look towards his brother, "And your little plan would be going way outside ministry approved parameters. It would never work."

"Why not? It's a good idea," Agate replied sensibly, taking a long swig of his butter beer.

"I suppose you two think so as well?" Casey inquired of Harper and Chauncey. He refused to look directly at Harper, instead staring belligerently at his brother. Reluctantly, the two students nodded.

"There are a million flaws in your plan," the redhead argued, glaring at Agate, "You're not an auror, so of course you wouldn't notice them."

Agate grinned, "I'm not, but I have a couple of good friends who happen to be aurors in training. We've gone over the scenarios and covered most everything that could go wrong."

"It's true," Harper piped up shyly, "Escape routes, possible counter defenses; we've covered everything."

"The one thing you haven't covered," Casey exhaled, finally looking Harper straight in the eyes, "Is whether Conrad will actually agree to come back."

"Of course he will," Chauncey frowned.

"He has to," Harper agreed.

For once, Agate sided against his friends, cautioning, "He didn't last time."

The dark haired beauty and the red haired twin turned on him in an instant.

"You're the one who thought this whole thing up," Harper accused her friend.

He shrugged, "Despite appearances, I'm not perfect. In all probability, we'll find Conrad. It's up to you guys to call him back to us."

Casey interjected, "Look, I want to find my baby brother as much as anyone else."

"Doubt that," Conrad and Harper harmonized.

"He's my brother too."

"Took you twenty years to figure that out," Chauncey muttered.

"I had other things on my mind," Casey shot back, embarrassed, "And so I haven't been the best brother. That doesn't mean I don't care about you guys. Blood is blood."

"And what is Prue?" Harper snapped, "Because obviously she's more important than blood."

Casey's face hardened, "As far as you two are concerned, Prue is blood. She's responsible for her actions in more ways than one, but so am I. I swear to both of you that if it comes down to Prue and Conrad, I'll save my brother, if only because he has everything to live for. But I'm going to try my damnedest to save Prue. For all my life, she's been there; my friend, my sister in arms, my lover, whatever. It doesn't matter what she is, just that she has always been there for me, and I plan on returning the favor."

Chauncey whistled. Even though they'd all guessed the depth of Casey's feelings for the girl, that entire speech had been more passionate that they ever could have expected.

"Fine," Harper said begrudgingly, "We'll save the hag."

"You're really okay with this plan? Harper?" Casey asked cautiously.

Harper grinned, "Let's get radical."

"Yeah baby," Chauncey turned to Casey, "This is why she's going to be a better future sister in law than your bird."

Casey sighed. Obviously, his brother had inherited his own crazy genes.

"Now, tell me this bitch one more time," Casey ordered of Agate, "Its one hell of an idea. For a healer."

"I live to make things right with the world," Agate replied serenely, and then proceeded to recount what he, Harper, and Chauncey had spent the night devising.

* * *

Maeve Emerson had a thing for twins. Back in her own Hogwarts days, she'd been unduly infatuated with a young boy named Wyatt Kingsbury. Wyatt, of course, had an identical twin brother named Shiloh. It took Maeve a long time to gain Wyatt's respect and eventual attraction, but after many trials, she'd managed. The only thing was, stupid Shiloh had to go and get himself killed. Naturally, Wyatt didn't handle it all that well, and had disappeared off everybody's radar. Maeve hadn't seen Wyatt since her seventh year in Hogwarts. Still, even now at the ripe old age of fifty one years old, Maeve Emerson couldn't forget him. She had a thing for twins.

So when Conrad Hargrove walked purposefully into her office in the IAWAP department of the ministry, demanding conference with one Serendipity Watson, Maeve couldn't just brush him off with the excuse that he didn't have an appointment.

Maeve had worked for IAWAP for almost thirty years, and she had never once met an official as popular as Serendipity. In fact, Serendipity's penchant for secret meetings and consort outside of ministry workers within the confines of her office had given Maeve a rather prickly feeling inside her stomach. Maeve knew that feeling. It was the same one she'd had the night before Shiloh died, and the day that Wyatt disappeared. It was the feeling she'd had the day her husband's parents had demanded they cancel their upcoming wedding (of course she and the Mister Rusty Emerson had gone and eloped, much to the old goats' chagrin). It was also the feeling she'd had when one of her best friends, a Miss Arcadia Webster had married a certain Karsh Hargrove (a story that Maeve didn't care much to recall due to all the broken hearts surrounding it). Yes, Maeve knew Arcadia Webster- now, Hargrove-Harcourt, and she had spent the past twenty years of her life knowing Conrad Hargrove. She'd heard Arcadia's tale of woe about her pretty young son's disappearance. So although Maeve had no issues letting the twin Conrad walk into Serendipity's office, she also felt that it was her moral and civic duty to call up Arcadia's son, the auror Casey, and explain all that she'd seen.

* * *

The wind howled outside the girls' window, but neither was a sleep. Simone was spending a late night at the library. So instead of sleeping, they talked.

"Merlin dumped me. Again."

"You weren't even dating, I thought," Harper yawned. She'd only just gotten back from the pub with Casey, Chauncey, and Agate an hour ago. She wanted to sleep, but her gut clenched and she felt like crying every time she even thought of it. She couldn't stop thinking about Conrad, no matter how hard she tried. It was like a physical need. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, her thoughts always drifted back to him. It was almost like she preferred wallowing in the misery of missing him. Part of her wondered if that could possibly be true. Maybe it was part of the human condition to keep oneself miserable for the sake of another. It was better than being miserable just because you were alone.

"Missing him is like missing part of yourself. It's the same for you, right?"

Harper frowned, "You needn't make it sound so corny."

"Corny, maybe. But…it's true, isn't it? You're sick of whining and complaining to all your friends about it, so you resolve to wear it like a scar on your heart that never quite healed. So you lie sobbing in your bed late at night, hoping no one will notice because then they'll think you aren't strong. Strength," Avarick scoffed, "It's strong to live with the pain, to man up, to suck it up and pretend you feel nothing. I wonder when that became the way it has to be?"

"Maybe when there came no other alternative. What else are we supposed to do? We can't change it, and after a while it feels nice to stop crying. At least in public. If we pretend to be happy, maybe it will come true."

"You really think that? You really think you'll be happy loving him and knowing he chose something other than you?"

"No. I don't. But what other choice have I got?" Harper scowled, "He didn't give me a choice. He left, and he gave me no choice."

"Merlin too. He chose Zillah. He chose her, and he didn't give me a choice."

"Boys bite."

"Yeah. At least yours left cause he got evil mojo worked on him. Mine left for no better reason than his own selfishness."

Harper had nothing to say to that. Avarick continued, "Do you think you can fall in love, the kind of can't live without him kind of love I have with Merlin and you have with Conrad, more than once?"

"I don't know. I was in love with a boy at Hogwarts who wasn't Conrad, once, I think. But it wasn't like it is with Conrad. I didn't want to know where he was every second. It wasn't…"

"Obsessive?"

"Yeah. Good a word as any," Harper shrugged, "I just knew I loved him."

"Do you think you could ever feel for someone else the way you feel about Conrad?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, but life's a long while still. Who knows?"

The girls were quiet. Both wondered if it was possible. They were young still. Maybe was seemed terrible now wouldn't be so terrible in the future. Maybe.

"Life's a long while still," Harper murmured softly again, staring out the window.

* * *

Casey would have loved to be at home wrapped up in his bed instead of where he was. The last thing he wanted to do after discussing such a dangerous plan in the pub was go out and threaten one of his closest friends. But after receiving Maeve Bixby's call, he had no choice.

He stood on the doorstep of Serendipity's flat, knocking as hard as he could, "Watson, you bint, you better open up this door or I'll-"

"What?" good humouredly, but for the most part sleepily, Serendipity demanded. She wore a pale pink silk kimono night robe that barely touched her thighs and had her arms crossed protectively over her chest.

"Where's Polaris?" he demanded.

"Out. He had a gig in Paris, so he's not getting back till early morning," the redheaded woman yawned, "Why are you here? My neighbors are going to think I'm having an affair."

"Oh, Sere," Casey shook his head, "You have worse things to worry about than that. Can I come in?"

She shrugged, "Sure. Is everything okay?"

"Not so much," Casey kicked off his shoes in the foyer, proceeding to then make himself very comfortable on one of the plush leather couches in Serendipity's sitting room, "When were you planning on telling me?"

"Telling you what?" Serendipity asked, perching daintily on an old wicker rocking chair near the fireplace. Her room was filled with a mish-mashed collection of modern furniture and antique oddities that fit her personality well. It was like a well lit, wealthy gypsy's den.

"How long have you known Prue was alive?"

"I didn't- Casey," for a moment, fear crossed Serendipity's face. However, she'd worked for the ministry for too long to let the emotion truly show. Instead, Serendipity easily slipped into the perfect poker mask, nothing getting through now that she knew what to expect, "I've got no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't fuck with me. Conrad came into your office tonight."

"How do you know that?"

Casey shrugged, "Not going to tell me the truth yet?"

"Conrad came to me for help," Serendipity said easily, "He-"

"Seriously Sere? Seriously, you're going to lie to me like that?" Casey drew his wand in a flash, flinging the nearest thing, a crystal vase, against the fireplace. It shattered, casting rainbow light in the flickering, dying fire. A few pieces popped so loudly it sounded like gunshots.

"That was expensive," Serendipity observed.

"I'll trash your home," Casey said calmly, "I'll even kill you."

"Don't kid. It's not funny."

"We're talking about Prue, Serendipity. I wouldn't joke about that," his voice was so low that Serendipity shivered. It was worse than yelling. She felt like a dark wizard under investigation. Then she realized that's what she was.

She knew the gig was up. Sighing, she walked to the kitchen, knowing Casey was observing her every move. She poured two goblets of brandy, came back in and sat on the armrest next to him. Pushing the glass into his hand, she said, "I've known since it happened."

"What?"

"Prue came to me, what, the week after, I think it was. Her and Elanore, in fact. She couldn't come to you, I'm sure she explained that. But they hunted me down."

"What about all that bull she fed me about Gradaver finding out?" she heard the anger tremble in Casey's voice.

"That wasn't bull, I assure you. I'm pretty sure he's known about me from the start. But he's not scared of me. In fact, I think he's under the impression that I'm useful. A built in informant in the ministry."

"Do you really inform him?" a new voice intruded. Serendipity and Casey glanced up sharply.

"Bobby!" Casey frowned, "Took you long enough."

The blonde shrugged, "I had to tuck Tisiphone in. Don't ask."

"You messaged Bobby? I thought you weren't getting along?" Serendipity queried.

"Come on Sere," Bobby grinned easily, "You know no matter how much we fight-"

"-we'll always be friends. Yeah, yeah, best friends forever hooray. Can we get on with it? You really inform him?"

"Of some things," Serendipity said lightly, "It's not as if my department knows much. I twist the information a little; Prue and Ellie twist the information a little. By the time it gets back to Gradaver, it's never much use."

"So you're helping them kill people."

"No. Not at all. And it's not like they're doing it of their own will. He controls them."

"Prue said that's not the case."

"It's a potion," Serendipity whispered, as though Gradaver could hear her. As if to reaffirm this, she drew her wand and hurriedly drew the curtains closed with some quick magic.

"Impossible," Casey scoffed, "We already scoured the books for any kind of potion or spell that would be able to give them the effects they've described. Anything that came even close would have killed them by now."

"Presuming they can be killed at this point," Bobby inserted with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course they can be killed. They're human. Look, I'll tell you what I've found out, but it's confusing. As far as I can tell, they never really died."

Bobby and Casey started, "But you saw Elanore swinging from that tree. And Casey felt Prue die in his arms."

"I'm not saying they weren't…badly hurt. Somehow, the wicked sisters managed to induce a death like state, but they held on to that last thread of life. They maintained it until five years later, when Gradaver woke them."

Casey whispered, aghast, "So they were buried alive?"

Serendipity slumped into her chair, "That's what I've theorized. After all, there's no way to bring people back from the dead. The only one I can't figure is Jasminder. Her parent's cremated her, didn't the mental idiots?"

"Maybe she never was. Maybe they just kept her alive and somehow transfigured her body until the time came," Bobby said thoughtfully. He wasn't nearly so horrified as Casey seemed to be. But then, Bobby Stone had always had an unquenchable streak of curiosity.

"It's possible, I guess. I mean, after this entire thing, I'm ready to believe anything is possible," Serendipity bit her lip, "Gradaver gives them the potion at night. It's a ministry prototype. Developed a little over five years ago. I'd assume it's the reason Gradaver tried to finally wake them; with the potion, he can control them."

"Do they know he's giving it to them?" Casey asked.

"No."

"Why haven't you told them?" he demanded.

"Therein lies the problem. If I tell them, they'll try to stop taking it."

"And?"

"As far as I can tell," Serendipity mused, "All the test subjects who have refrained from taking the potion half way through have died."

* * *

Shailly Hargrove had a long, and for the general majority of it, enjoyable life. Naturally, there were things that she'd regretted that didn't seem nearly so terrible in the present, and things that had seemed wonderful that she'd come to regret. Still, Shailly felt that for the most part she had been blessed. But on those longest of nights, Shailly nursed a bottle of Firewhisky and contemplated all the times that she had been wronged. 'Adopted' (perhaps the apropos word would have been 'bought') by the Hargrove family at nine years old, the then muggle Shailly McCallister had been flabbergasted to discover she was a witch. At seventeen years old she had discovered that she was in love with the Hargrove's only son, Karsh. Karsh whole heartedly returned her feelings. Despite the taboo of being siblings of sorts, Shailly and Karsh had won the support of their friends and attempted to make a go of it. Unfortunately for Shailly and Karsh, their parents had not experienced the same warm and fuzzy emotions that Shailly and Karsh's friends had.

In fact, Quinn and Saxon Hargrove had decided the best course of action would be to marry their children against their wills. Karsh had been married off to one of Shailly's best friends, Arcadia. Shailly had been forced to watch her best friend and her one true love raise a family together (amidst tumultuous often resentful fighting and several sordid affairs on both parties' parts) and slowly grow to care if not love each other, only to see her almost-brother, always-lover be killed at the hands of dark wizards barely ten years later. Meanwhile Shailly had been forced to wed one Arley Wright. Arley had been a caring, if not tame man. Yet Shailly was cursed again only a year into their marriage, when Arley was killed as a soldier in one of the dark wars.

Despite all the pain that Shailly had experienced in her life, she was not bitter. She and Karsh and Arcadia had made peace with their situation before his death, and Shailly had many happy years together with both of them. Even now, she considered Arcadia a close, personal friend. She had taken up dating an old school friend, a man named Jesse Spiederman who worked closely with the magical infraction force in America. There, with him, Shailly had found her niche. And of course, the best of all things were Karsh's sons. They were seven of the most beautiful boys she had ever seen, and each and every one had bits of her soul mate within him.

However, her own cursed luck seemed to have passed down to her 'nephews'. Shailly had been forced to watch her favorite nephew, Casey, agonize over the loss of his lover for too long. She had felt helpless, despite her feelings of kinship with poor Casey. Now her favorite nephew was grieving again over the loss of one of their own. Shailly had resolved that this time around, Casey would not suffer. Nor would the twins have to endure any sort of pain. Perhaps it was because of what she felt for Karsh, or what she'd gone through in those long years with Karsh and Arcadia, but Shailly felt a strong motherly instinct towards her 'nephews'. This time around, she would not fail them.

For the first time in ten years, Shailly Hargrove resolutely set foot on English soil.

* * *

Okay. Really short, I know. But I've kind of been neglecting this story- I have more written out, but I didn't want the next chapter to be a hack job, so...patience? It's cause I'm trying to rennovate Giddy Brew into an original story which is pretty damned hard- Damn you JK, sometimes...Although I did manage to stir up a pretty fawesome sequel to it (Not PF, a complete fantasy thing with zombies and fawesomeness- it's at fictionpress under the same user name if ya'll are interested or want to check out the other stuff I've been working on.) But I promise PF will have an ending. Actually pretty soon, it should have less than five chapters to go. I promise, all will be revealed! Yay. Reviews are fawesome, please and thankyou. 


	10. Enraptured

**Poison Fairytales**

_Chapter 10: Enraptured_

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Just for the record, JK Rowling totally stole my idea about infiltrating the ministry.

I'm serious. But whatever, I'll work around it. *laughs*

Disclaimer: The characters and Willowcrest are mine, the world of Harry Potter is not. It belongs to JKR who I worship. But am upset about cause of the whole stealing my idea. Seriously, go look, its in the earlier chapters of PF, which were published pre-July. I know, I know, I'm full of it.

* * *

Serendipity arranged for the meeting in her office. She left the door open, and instructed Casey on how to lock up. And then, like a thief, she stole out of her department and into the streets of London, into the waiting arms of her husband.

"Long day?" he asked mildly, looking exhausted himself.

"Kind of," she admitted, "Is take out okay?"

"Of course," Polaris grinned, letting her know that she could have suggested dirt and snails for dinner and he'd be alright with it. He loved her that much.

"How was your day, honey?"

He yawned, "Practice was awful."

"It must have been. The entire ocean must have poured out of the sky today," Serendipity looked ruefully at the wet pavement beneath her designer boots.

"I think there's still some left," he laughed, pointing at the sky, "Look."

A fat droplet of water fell right on the tip of her nose, rolling down over her lips and chin before she could wipe it away. Its brothers and sisters quickly followed, divine floodgates releasing yet another onslaught of rain.

Serendipity sighed, touching the frizz that her hair had become in the humidity, "I look awful."

"You look gorgeous," Polaris corrected, putting his arm around her, "How about we walk back home rather than apparate?"

"In this weather?" Serendipity exclaimed.

"We don't spend enough time together walking."

"You're daft," she laughed as he pulled her along, splashing through puddles like a little boy. She had planned to tell him about the meeting, and how she was worried what might happen, and how the future looked darker every day. She had planned to spew her worries like emotional vomit to her constant guardian and lover. Looking at his childish smile as he pranced through the rain, the gray sky so bright that there had to still be some iota of sunlight backing them, Serendipity decided her worries could wait. She was going to dance in the rain, all the way home.

"Nice digs Sere's got herself," Casey murmured to no one, striding into Serendipity's office with not an ounce of stealth. He settled himself in her big leather chair and started fiddling with the solid gold globe on her desk. Every time he touched his wand to a location it would mention interesting local facts and project holographic images of all these exotic places had to offer.

He didn't even notice his brother come in. Some auror Casey Hargrove was.

"Casey," Conrad said softly, his voice slicing through the darkness.

Casey jumped to his feet, wand ready, Serendipity's chair falling to the floor in a whirl of spinning wheels and soft torn dragon skin. When he recognized his brother he swore slightly, "Jesus and Merlin, boy. Don't scare me like that."

Conrad shrugged, "It's not my fault you were daydreaming. I didn't sneak in or anything."

"That is entirely not the point," Casey retorted.

"You were expecting me," Conrad pointed out, "I believe that's the only reason you're here."

Casey narrowed his eyes, "Fine. You win. We have more important things to talk about anyway."

Conrad found a seat on the ledge of the picture window that looked out on the currently empty streets of London while Casey righted Serendipity's expensive chair and settled himself once more. They eyed each other levelly, each wondering what the other was going to throw at them. Casey set his wand on Serendipity's desk; he knew he wouldn't need it, but it never hurt to have close by.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about," Conrad said finally, sighing. He already knew all the reasons Casey wanted to talk to him, mostly, and he couldn't quite figure out why he'd decided to come. In truth, he'd missed his brother. He missed a lot of things, and a lot of people. But most of the time he was slaving away for Gradaver so long that he didn't have time to think or miss or feel, and that was the way Conrad liked it.

Casey rolled his head around, cracking his neck. He wasn't really thinking about what he wanted to say; he'd rehearsed it already. He just felt like making the mood more tense, to remind him that his brother was now the enemy. This wasn't some casual encounter. Casey missed the old days when he thought wars were fought on the streets and strategic secret meetings between opposite sides only happened when there were traitors in you midst.

"Why did you leave, baby brother?"

"You really think I'll tell you?"

Half amused, Casey responded, "Not really. I didn't even expect you to show up, if we're being honest."

Conrad cursed himself inwardly for not fulfilling his elder brother's expectations. If he hadn't showed up, he wouldn't have to deal with this.

"So?" he prompted, "I'm here. Speak."

"You're coming back," Casey replied casually.

"Are you going to make me?" Conrad idly glanced at his brother's wand. It was resting right next to his hand. Casey could probably stun Conrad before he had a chance to get his own. He was a fully trained auror, after all. Conrad was just a Willowcrest dropout.

"No. That might require hurting you."

"And that would be problematic?"

"You're my baby brother. I'm supposed to be the one protecting you," he pointed out, tilting his glasses so that he could see Conrad better, "It goes against my blood to try to hurt you."

Conrad shifted guiltily, changed the subject to the one that might hurt his brother, "Prue says hi."

"I'm sure she does," Casey crossed his arms, a flash of something crossing his face that Conrad only half understood, and then added softly, "How is she?"

"She's…alright. She's strong. They all are. They don't let things get them down."

"Oh. Do you want to know how-"

"No. I can't- I mean I don't."

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to know how your brother is."

"Oh. Chaunce," Conrad winced, like he'd forgotten his own twin, "Is he alright?"

"Well he did mention something about having a slimy smarmy berky git of a brother, but he might have been talking about me," Casey reclined the chair thoughtfully, "He's at some pub in London now. With Harper and Agate."

Conrad winced as Casey said Harper's name, but all he asked was, "Agate? He's at Willowcrest?"

"Chauncey owled him. I guess he thought he could help out with…everyone's been really down since you left, baby brother."

"They'll survive."

"If that's what you think."

"So you called me here to discuss friends and family?"

Casey chuckled, "You're so impatient. Am I freaking you out?"

"A little. I keep looking around for some hidden squad of aurors you have hidden in the curtains."

Scrutinizing the curtains Casey muttered, "They'd have to be bloody skinny to fit in there."

"Think you're clever, don't you?" Conrad groaned.

Smirking, Casey answered, "I am clever. And I called you here to see if I could figure out what they did to you."

"Have you?"

"No," the older boy admitted, "But I have an inkling of an idea."

"I hope that helps you out then," Conrad turned to go.

"You really won't come back on your own? We really have to be enemies?"

"We don't have to be enemies if you just surrender. I think Prue would like that," Conrad told him, shoving a hand through his thick red hair. He was wearing it down now, just like Chauncey always did. That was Casey's first clue that maybe Conrad wasn't completely himself.

Casey grinned, but when he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous, "Then you don't know anything at all about Prue. She's fighting, better than you have."

"I fought. It just stopped seeming worth it."

"So you'd say you lost the will to fight?"

Conrad winced, "Are you psychoanalyzing me?"

"I might be. Come to Mum's birthday party."

"He might be," Conrad mocked, and then started, "What?"

"Mum's birthday. It's this weekend. She's having the same party she always does. There won't be any aurors there other than me. Come."

"What, a trap?"

"No. I give you my most solemn oath. I'd make an ubreakable vow even."

"Mum knows I left Willowcrest."

"I'll tell her you came back. I'll tell her not to pry."

"Like that will work. Its Mum, remember?"

Casey's eyes danced, "Come on, Conrad. It would mean a lot to her. Just for a few minutes even. Then you can go back to planting the seed of evil or destroying the ministry from within, or whatever it is you wicked henchmen like to do."

Indignant, Conrad snapped, "I am not a wicked henchman."

"So you're not just Gradaver's tool? He needs you?"

Conrad couldn't answer that.

"I'll see you soon."

"At Mum's party?" Casey asked.

Conrad flipped his brother an impolite gesture and vanished. Casey meanwhile, returned to playing with the globe. Now that certainly was interesting. It narrowed down the choices, at least.

* * *

"Why are we here again?" Benvolio yelled over the pounding music of the pub. It wasn't like any pub he'd ever seen, with these strange lights that Harper told him were called neon lining all the walls, and long tanks full of water and darting electric colored fish stretching across the underside of the bar.

Which Harper Valente was currently doing an extremely provocative pole dance on top of. Benvolio sighed, watching the dark haired girl drop to her knees, her low slung jeans only riding lower and lower on her hips. He wished he had robes to cover her with. She was sloshed out of her mind, and aside from the jeans that just barely concealed her unmentionables, she also sported a top that could barely be called one, and her cleavage was straining to burst out. He felt scandalized by the sight.

"Relax, mate," Agate slung his arm around Benvolio's shoulder, and the brunette resisted the urge to shove it off and inform the healer that he was not his 'mate'.

"We're here because Harpy wanted to get her groove on. On top of a bar. Which the other pubs wouldn't let her do. But this lounge is rocking! Woo hoo, yeah Valente! You work that bar top!" Chauncey proceeded to cat call Harper, who only attempted to pull him up with her. The bartender allowed Chauncey to get away with a pathetic attempt at dancing for a minute before pushing him off and telling him that ladies were the only ones allowed to dance up there. And so Harper found a new partner in the form of a slight brunette bird with a microscopic dress that kept riding up to reveal her purple knickers.

"Sexy," Agate called out, to which Harper and the girl beamed in reply.

Benvolio had never even been to a bar before Agate visited. He couldn't imagine what his mother would say if she found out. Yet this was at least the fifth pub he'd been to, just tonight. He'd thought perhaps Harper and Chauncey had gotten their fix of drinking themselves into oblivion and dancing on bar tops the last time, but apparently not. At least this time they weren't doing it under the guise of looking for Conrad.

Chauncey offered him a shot of something noxious, which he turned down. Agate snatched it up, and soon the two boys were having a rousing game of seeing who could get piss arse drunk first. Chauncey was already three sheets to the wind, and with that considerable lead Benvolio had decided the game was hardly fair. Neither boy seemed to mind.

Harper attempted to climb down from the slippery wet surface of the bar, nearly falling with one misstep of her turquoise stiletto. Before he even knew he'd made to move, Benvolio had caught her.

Giggling hysterically, Harper squealed, "Thanks Ben! You're the best."

"Er," Benvolio blushed, "Not really."

"Harper!" Agate belched loudly, "Shots!"

"Ooh!" Harper jumped out of Benvolio's arms and hurried to her friend's side. For the umpteenth time, Benvolio wondered why he was there. Not just in that particular bar, with their bar top strip pole, but in London at all. Chauncey and Prue had begged Casey for an opportunity for leave, and the elder Hargrove hadn't seen fit to deny them. Benvolio could tell that Professor Hargrove felt awful for Conrad's absence. He was sure that he even blamed himself.

Conrad of course, was the root of the problem. He was the reason why Chauncey and Harper had decided that rather than deal with their abandonment issues, they'd rather get plastered and publically embarrass themselves. While Benvolio wasn't completely fine with his friends self destructing this way, he'd be a lot finer with it if they hadn't dragged him along. He should have played it cool like Avarick and said that he had better things to do than throw back shots with a bunch of lunatics. Although Avarick had phrased it more politely, saying that she wished she could, but her mum was visiting. Actually, Benvolio had seen a rather attractive older blonde woman in Harper's room earlier. Maybe Avarick's excuse hadn't been one at all. Still, Benvolio crossed his arms, he couldn't believe that he was here.

He often wondered in the past few months if he would have promised Conrad that he'd take care of Harper had he known that the redhead would leave. He'd known something was wrong. He'd known he should have tried arguing, or talking Conrad out of whatever zany idea had been going on in the boy's brain. In that way, Conrad's leaving was just as much his fault as it was anyone else's.

Three months ago, Benvolio would have killed to have Harper hanging all over him, drunk or not. The few weeks they'd dated, he'd been in a kind of personal heaven. Even the fact that he knew she didn't love him didn't affect his feelings for her. When she dumped him, he resented her. He loathed her even more than Conrad, and he hated himself even more than her. He had known it was coming, but she still shouldn't have jolted him out of his happiness so abruptly.

He didn't want to take care of this drunken broken girl.

"Ben!" Harper sang, "Come on, stop being such a party pooper."

He scowled, "I'm not being a-"

"Yes you are," Chauncey cut him off, "You're thinking too much."

Agate chuckled, "Well that won't do. The entire point of this expedition is to not think."

Benvolio glared at the auburn haired boy, who casually offered him a shot. He took it with a look of distaste. Staring down in the small glass cup full of a golden liquid that smelled vaguely like rubbing alcohol, Benvolio decided he was sick of being the odd one out. He wanted to forget himself too.

Twenty minutes later, Benvolio was spewing his guts out in the loo.

Apologetically, Agate said, "Well, how was I supposed to know he couldn't hold his liquor?"

Harper glared at him, "Its Ben. Does he look like a heavy drinker?"

"Fine, fine," Agate held up his hands defensively, "I'm the responsible one. I'm the healer. I'll go give him a charm."

Chauncey patted his friend's back sternly, "That's right mate, you go do that. Meanwhile, Harpy and I will guard the shots."

When Agate disappeared, Chauncey turned to Harper, "Haaaarpy, have another shot with me."

"Okay," she chirped, demanding more from the frazzled bartender. He considered refusing, but had already attempted to do so twice with this lot and earned himself some extremely uncomfortable boils.

Harper downed the shot, something glistening in her eye that she wiped away before anyone saw. Except Chauncey was more observant than he liked to let on.

"You didn't listen to me last time," Chauncey said out of the blue.

"Listen to you?" Harper asked, twirling the shot glass in her fingers.

"Yeah," Chauncey frowned, "I told you that you'd be okay."

He pressed a finger into the center of her chest and cast her a weary smile, much like he'd done a the bar so many nights ago. Harper frowned. She thought he'd been too drunk to remember.

"I'm listening. It's just hard."

"I know," he replied, walking away to check on Benvolio and Agate. Harper glanced at herself glumly in the mirror framing all the multi colored bottles behind the bar. She had glammed herself up to go out bar hopping, but she didn't look like it. She looked miserable and drunk.

* * *

Agate ended up carrying Harper into her room. He'd dropped of Chauncey and Benvolio first, his back straining with their weight. He was a healer in training, and this so wasn't part of the job description.

He nearly cracked open Harper's head on the doorframe. He practically tripped over Avarick on the way to Harper's bed. He did fall setting her down, his body hitting hers on the way down to the comforter. Winded, Agate laid on top of Harper, who only moaned and attempted to turn on her side.

He tried to push himself up, his hand catching beneath her shirt. He ran his fingers over her abdomen, appreciating the soft skin there.

"What are you doing?" Avarick asked, sitting up from her bed. Apparently the half trip over her bed had woken her.

"What's it look like?" Agate asked dryly.

"Like you're going to rape my friend. Or try, again."

"I would never," Agate drawled.

Avarick blinked, "How long have you had this thing for her?"

"Mm. Since fifth year. We dated for a while in sixth, during one of the golden couple's many breaks."

"I didn't know that."

"Eh. It wasn't going anywhere," Agate tucked Harper deep into her comforter, and a soft smile flitted over her face, "She only ever had eyes for Conrad. Even when she dated me, even when she dated a few other guys. Same went for Con; he only liked Harper, despite all his other girls. They were so confused, thinking that they couldn't have found each other so young, trying to be who they wanted, and all the while they constantly gravitate back to each other."

Avarick sighed, "That's so romantic. I wish my life was like that."

"I've heard it kind of is. You and Merlin Pembroke-"

Avarick's face hardened, "Merlin Pembroke can die and rot, for all I care."

"Ookay, I guess my sources were wrong."

"Yeah," Avarick glanced at the sky, "It's getting light out. You better scurry out."

"I'm going," Agate made sure that Harper was comfortable, but she was out like a light, snoring slightly.

"Sorry about you know, everything," Avarick muttered, going back to sleep.

Agate shrugged, "It's alright."

* * *

Casey answered the door to Willowcrest in the midst of a thunderstorm at one in the morning. He'd had a rough day; none of the aurors in training seemed to care about their lessons on muggle automobiles, and he'd heard they'd been pretty surly in their other classes as well. He'd had to help Professor Buckland break up a fight between Eranthe Demontico and Zillah Carew that included some nasty wand work and some shape changing. They'd both been punished of course, but they refused to talk about what had started the fight. Casey couldn't think what it could be; both Eranthe with her ex-Slytherin background and Zillah with her Trueblood roots should technically have got along.

And now his late night moping was interrupted by loud banging on the door. He didn't understand why Wilhelm or Audra couldn't ever climb off their butts and answer the door. At least Chalcedony and Noah were on a mission in London, so he couldn't blame them.

When the door swung back, Casey blinked. Then he blinked again, "Aunt Shailly?"

"How is my favorite nephew doing?" Shailly Hargrove threw her arms around Casey's broad shoulders, her eyes wrinkling in a smile.

"What are you doing here Aunt Shailly?"

"I heard what happened to Conrad. I came to help. Plus your mother would have shot me if I missed her birthday party."

"Okay," Casey didn't bother to ask the petite woman how exactly she could help. Instead he asked, "But what are you doing here, at Willowcrest?"

"Well, I didn't want to be a burden on Arcadia, so I figured you could put me up for the rest of the week."

"Er- I don't know if we have room," Casey murmured.

Shailly's light blue eyes narrowed, "Nonsense, boy. I'm staying, and that's all there is to it. Now it's pouring out here, let me in."

Casey obligingly let Shailly in. She proceeded to take over his room and ensure that there was no way he'd ever get a good night's sleep. The tiny strawberry blonde made herself extremely comfortable on Casey's bed.

"Tell me what happened," she ordered.

Casey obliged, reciting how Conrad had been coerced into leaving in a way that they couldn't explain, mentioning how Prue, Elanore, and Frank had come back to life, Serendipity's theory on them never having died, and what exactly the state of the ministry was right now.

"We don't even know who's in power anymore. As far as we can tell, the only ministries that still seems to have any power at all are the Asian ones. But we can't usurp the power from the minister or his lackeys until we figure out what exactly is going on. We can't even tell whether they've been spelled yet. Their auror security is top level, and the only thing that's out of order is the way the minister keeps sending us on increasingly dangerous missions that conflict with the other ministries. However, the new minister has always been sort of a loose cannon, and when I last talked to Prue-"

"You're basing your information off your ex girlfriend?"

"She's not my ex," Casey murmured.

"What is she then?" Shailly prompted.

"I don't know," he retorted, "But yeah, I'm basing my information off her. Last time we spoke, they hadn't completely infiltrated the ministry. I think maybe they're going to throw the whole wizarding world into some sort of war, ministry against ministry."

"Have you told the department about your theory?" Shailly asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah. But I'm just a consultant on the case. They don't really listen to me."

Shailly grinned, "Maybe it's time to make them listen."

* * *

Arcadia Hargrove-Harcourt's birthday party was more of an elaborate extravaganza than any party Harper or Avarick had ever been to. Harper had been to the Hargrove mansion often enough to not be blown away by the arched entranceways, the long expanses of windows, and the silk furniture. Avarick on the other hand couldn't stop fussing over every little thing. Eventually Harper had to drag her out into the courtyard where the party was being held.

"It's beautiful," Avarick exclaimed.

It was true. The courtyard of the Hargrove mansion had always been beautiful. A white cobbled walkway lined with willows, its magnificence was obvious even without the rows of fairy lights and tables bulging with a feast fit feed a few third world countries. Harper sighed. She hadn't planned on coming to the party, but when Chauncey and Casey had prepared to step through the fireplace, Chauncey had decided to drag all his friends along. And so Agate, Harper, and Avarick, who desperately needed a boost after her nagging mother's visit and the pain of seeing Zillah and Merlin constantly snogging in the halls were invited. Benvolio was still practically bed ridden from his first hang over, although they were all pretty sure he was faking. It had been a week prior, after all.

Arcadia was a vision in a dark blue evening gown covered in sheer sparkling white scarves, with a diving back and a high neckline. Her thick red hair was braided up on the crown of his head, without even a hint of gray.

She greeted Harper with a sad smile, "Harper, it's lovely to see you!"

"Mrs. Harcourt," Harper grinned, "Do you remember Avarick?"

"Oh yes, we met at the ball, right?"

"Right," Avarick affirmed meekly.

"Thank you for coming to my party," Arcadia beamed.

The girls excused themselves to go rifle through the food tables. Avarick was wearing a dress the color of goldenrod, trimmed with golden thread. Harper's dress was tight; turquoise and purple geometric patterns intertwining.

Harper was piling her plate high with broiled pheasant and salted mango sticks when she saw Arcadia greeting a red headed boy with a huge smile. At first she thought it might be Casey or one of his older brothers, Cerulean or Cayan. Then she thought that the form was too slight, and had to be one of the little Hargroves; Corbett, Cattigan, or the older brother with the tiniest form Cherridy. She noticed the boy's longish hair as she stepped forward, and she was almost sure that it had to be Chauncey.

But Chauncey was standing next to Agate, chatting up some witch from the ministry with a waif like body and perfect teeth.

When the boy pulled away from his mother, who was laughing delightedly.

"Conrad," Harper gasped, her plate falling to the ground.

Avarick's head snapped up, "What, where?"

"Over there, with Mrs. Harcourt."

Eyes widening, Avarick gasped, "You're right."

Harper searched out Casey in the crowd. Running to him she gasped, "Casey. Con's here."

Casey sighed. His aunt had been driving him bonkers all week, and now he had to deal with this. He nodded, "I know. I invited him."

"You're going to keep him here, right? You're not going to let him leave?"

A sad look crossed Casey's face, "Not this time, Valente. I promised him he'd be safe here. It's a temporary truce. For my mum's sake."

Harper stomped her foot frustratedly, "That's not right."

"Valente, you're causing a scene."

"You can't just let him walk out of here."

"I can, and I will," Casey replied, a dangerous glint in his eye.

Harper scowled and strode away from him, straight to the other Hargrove brother she knew well enough to complain. She didn't promise Conrad would be safe, after all.

"Conrad's here," she tugged Chauncey away from the pretty witch. Agate followed obediently.

"He's what?"

Harper directed Chauncey's gaze over to where Conrad was conversing with the rest of the family. Casey was staying conspicuously absent from the conversation, as was his aunt Shailly, whom Harper had met earlier that week. She spotted her professor weaving through the crowd apparently in an attempt to avoid the smaller woman, who had a determined look on his face.

"Good, your brother's distracted," Agate said grimly. He dug something out of his pocket that looked like a pile of playing cards, "Take these. We'll keep him distracted."

"We?" Avarick squeaked, noticing that Agate was eyeing her. He laughed and told her that of course he meant her and him. Chauncey had to distract Conrad, after all.

"Yeah, this will be easy, like a Catholic school girl on a Saturday night," Chauncey grinned, "I'll distract Conrad into going to our room. Then you take care of our boy."

"Right," Harper nodded, feeling her stomach churn, "Easy peasy."

Chauncey strode up to Conrad with a warm smile, surprising his twin by throwing his arms around him. Conrad nervously accepted his brother's affection, and while the others couldn't hear what was said between the two boys, Chauncey managed to get him to leave the party and get up to their room with relative ease.

"I wonder what he said to him," Harper asked.

"Never mind that," Agate pushed her forward, "Go get him."

Avarick frowned at the auburn haired boy, "So what do those cards do?"

"Magic," Agate wiggled his fingers in front of the blonde, "Now come help me distract the rentals and the auror."

* * *

Harper found the twins in the room they shared between them. Walls covered in constellations offset their fiery hair as they sat on the bed, leaning over something that Harper couldn't see.

"Conrad," she said quietly. Conrad stiffened, and then jumped to his feet, turning on his brother.

"You brought her here?"

"Well, yeah," Chauncey smiled humorlessly.

"Why would you do that?"

"I was bored," Harper tilted her head, her fringe falling into her turquoise eyes.

Conrad was pacing in front of them, "Look, Harper."

Chauncey had come to stand next to her, and discreetly, Harper passed him the cards. Then she tackled him. Harper wasn't nearly as strong as Conrad, and it was only the shock of what was happening that kept him from apparating away. As it was, he fell to his knees, not ready for her added weight. Meanwhile, Chauncey threw the cards, creating a nearly perfect circle around them. They sliced through the carpet and only later did he realize that to his dismay they'd been standing on his side of the room. Mum was going to give him hell.

Still, the cards did what they were meant to do, creating a thin barrier between Conrad and Harper and the rest of the room. There was enough space that they could stretch out within the barrier, but not enough to leave the room or even reach the bed.

Conrad tried to move forward, not realizing what was happening. He shoved Harper off of him and she hit the floor with a loud 'oomph'.

He stumbled forward into the barrier, which threw him back against it, not letting him move.

"Chaunce," He yelped, "What the bloody hell did you do?"

Frantically Conrad pounded on the barrier, "You don't understand what you're doing, Chauncey, you have to let me go. You're my brother, please."

"I don't have to do anything, mate," Chauncey snarled, "And you should have thought of that before you left."

Harper placed her hand on Conrad's forearm, but he shook it off. Which was fine with her; she didn't want to comfort him. She just didn't know how long Agate's little shield would hold for.

"What do we do now?" She asked Chauncey, completely aware that she was ignoring the other twin.

"Well, the thing is, I don't know. Agate told me the shield would hold for quite a while, but we can't really leave you guys locked in my bedroom forever."

"Our bedroom," Conrad pointed out in a churlish voice.

The two aurors in training continued to act like he wasn't even there.

"So what do we do?"

"I talk to big brother and convince him to rescind on his promise."

"He won't do that," Conrad said quietly, "He made an oath."

"Fine," Chauncey stared directly at his twin, "Then, I talk to our other big brothers and we don't tell Casey anything about this. He can't go back on his oath if he doesn't know you're in trouble, can he?"

"So then we get them to help us transport into a cell at Willowcrest, and then we break the barrier?"

"Sounds like a plan. That way he won't be able to apparate out…" Chauncey scratched his chin thoughtfully, "I'll be back in half an hour or so. I'm going to get Avarick and Agate to help me brainstorm before I confront…hmm, Cerulean or Cayan? Cerulean, definitely. Cayan will want to be all touchy feely and emotional and spill the beans to Casey. You kids sit tight."

They watched Chauncey disappear in silence. Conrad had settled himself cross legged on the carpet and was nudging a magazine corner that had been caught in the barrier. The corner pages moved, but the bits outside the barrier stayed completely still. It looked like a porno too.

"Drat," Conrad swore, "You two are idiots, you know that right?"

"And you're a moron," Harper spun on him, ready to fight. She'd been ready to confront him for months, and she never thought she'd have a chance. She figured they'd have to enact Agate's ridiculously ballsy plan before they ever caught Conrad.

They glared at each other with vehemence, both hoping the other would back down and they wouldn't have to be so cruel.

"You're going to get hurt," Conrad told her.

"And you won't?"

"I'm a big boy."

Harper slapped him. Hard. She couldn't believe he was being so childish.

"Why won't you tell us what they did to make you leave?" slap "What did that complete hag do?" slap "Why wouldn't you ask for help?" punch "Are you stupid?" slap "Is it the imperius?" punch "Did they threaten your family?" slap "Did they threaten me?" punch "Or did you just want to leave?"

Eyes blazing, Harper pummeled her once boyfriend, who was technically still her boyfriend without him reacting. The biggest indication that he was in pain was a slight wince. Finally he grabbed her wrists with the utmost gentleness and whispered, "I chose this. Just leave it be, Harpy."

"No!" she shrieked, "Why should I? I deserve answers, don't I?"

"You do," he admitted, still holding fast.

"So?"

"So, I can't give them to you. I'm sorry. I don't know why I chose this, I just know its what I want to do."

"Imper-"

"It's not the imperius," he said, holding up a hand to stop her objections.

"Then what?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think killing people is right? Oh god, have you killed someone?"

Conrad shrugged, which only lead Harper to remember that she now had a free hand and she laid into him hard.

In an instant, he had her pinned to the plush blue carpet, his eyes boring a hole into her forehead. It reminded her that there was a reason Conrad had been accepted into auror school; a combination of strength, intelligence, and cunning. Harper blinked the spots out of her vision, hoping he hadn't just given her a concussion. She tried to free her legs, but he was leaning all his weight against them in either knee, his hands keeping her wrists motionless. Conrad was strong, stronger than she remembered. It was scaring her.

"Stop squirming," he commanded, but she refused to obey. She heard a rip that most likely meant her lovely dress, for all its purple and turquoise silk hadn't been able to hold up to a twenty year old boy. Sure enough, when she glanced down she saw that what little cleavage she had was spilling out the front of her once beautiful dress. To think, she thought sadly, I only wore it because I thought he'd think I looked pretty. It was odd; when she'd put the dress on, she really thought of Conrad, and thought that he would love it. She hadn't thought that he'd get to see it; Harper had almost given up on seeing him again. And now here he was, and their reunion was more violent than dreamlike.

Suddenly, without warning, Harper felt hot tears stream down the sides of her cheeks and over her ears. She tried to stop, but warm rush of them refused to be damned. Conrad got a strange look on his face, the one he used when he was thinking too much.

"Harpy," he let go of one wrist, which dropped limply to her side. His fingers brushed against her cheek, "Harper, stop crying."

"I can't," she replied shortly, her voice sounding winded. Realizing that she wasn't going to struggle, Conrad moved his knees from her thighs. She was sure her inner thighs would bruise from his weight, but she didn't shift, didn't dare breathe for fear he'd disappear.

"Why are you crying?" he asked more gently this time.

"I…" she knew that whatever she said, she'd sound lost and lonely, like a little girl. But she was lost and lonely, so maybe it would be okay, "I miss you."

Conrad inhaled sharply, like she'd hit him, "I don't-"

"Stop. Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you say that you don't miss me. I don't want to hear you tell me you don't love me. Do you understand? My heart can't take it. It will stop beating for the pain. I'll die, if you tell me that. I will, Con. I'll die."

He looked angry, like he wanted to argue. And he did. He wanted to tell her that she couldn't die whether he was there or not. It shouldn't make a difference. He wasn't that important. She was, she was too important to people, to him, to die. He wanted to tell her that he'd give this all up for her, but that he couldn't. It was impossible. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that of course he'd missed her and that he would never lie and say he didn't love her. He wanted to say a thousand different things, but even if he'd tried, they would have come out wrong. So he stayed quiet, laying down beside her on his back and then changing his mind and placing his head on her chest, listening to her heart. It was beating surprisingly calm, despite her tears.

They lay there like that for a long time.

Finally, he said, "Don't die."

Harper couldn't bring herself to ask why not. Instead, after a moment of silence she said, "I wore this dress in case I saw you. I hoped you'd be here. I…I wanted you to tell me I looked pretty. You joined an evil fucking cult, and I wanted you to say I looked-" she choked on a sob, "I wanted to see you. That's all I thought about. I didn't care how or why, just that I got to see you, now."

"Harpy, you know you always look pretty," Conrad said.

"You're just saying that."

"No," he lifted his head to meet her eyes, "You look beautiful. Especially tonight."

"This isn't going to end well, is it?" Harper asked, "You're not coming back."

"No," Conrad said carefully, "I'm not."

"And no matter who wins, one of us ends up dead. If you win, I'm dead-" she let loose a short peal of humorless laughter while Conrad gasped.

"You won't die. I won't let you."

"In which case you'll lose, and you'll die," she replied solemnly, "The case isn't in our hands anymore, Con. That crazy ex girlfriend of your brother's, the auror, she's out for blood. And so many others…"

"I won't die," he told her firmly.

"Do we have a future together Conrad?" Harper asked, and there were so many questions in her eyes that he didn't know how to answer.

"I don't know. The way things are now…I don't think so," he bit his lip, and it was as much an admission of what she'd just said, that things would end badly, as anything else.

"Lie to me."

"What?"

"Lie to me. Tell me our future. Tell me that it'll be amazing, that we'll get our dream house on the beach and have two lovely kids and a bunch of dogs, and that we'll grow old together and everything will be perfect. Tell me that you'll always be there for me, that you'll always protect me and take care of me."

"Harper…" Conrad said helplessly.

"I'll know it's not real. I'll know it's just pretend. So please, Con. Please, lie to me."

And so Conrad lied. He told her everything, about their amazing perfect life together. He described it right down to the socks in their drawers and what kind of toothpaste they'd use, and while he said it they both closed their eyes and believed, at least for that little while, that it would be true, if they wished it.

And after he told her, he seized her mouth with his, or maybe she instigated it, but neither ever recalled correctly. Their kisses were wet and sloppy at first because of Harper's tears and because it'd been so long. But soon they remembered each other's mouths, and the way they liked to be kissed, and the way they fit together just so. Then Conrad's jacket ended up on the floor as a pillow because it was just too damned hot and their kisses were just too wild that it would be a shame for it to rip. Next went his shirt because their skin needed to touch and the need was overwhelming. Harper's dress slipped off her body like the wrappings of a present, and if Conrad's gaze lingered for too long she only felt a glow of satisfaction for it.

Thank Merlin she'd worn her good lingerie.

His hands were insistent and his kisses hard, but there was still something careful in the way that Conrad stripped her of the last vestiges of her clothing. Her bra fell away like something too heavy and clumsy to actually be worn, and her breasts were soft and pliant beneath his hands and mouth. Her panties were pushed down her thighs, useless and unwanted. Her fingers trembled as she undid the buckle on his belt. Why at a time like this did he seem to have more grace than her? When he fell upon her, his skin was feverish. Their tongues wound together in a frenzied dance, his weight shifting over her, her legs wrapping around his waist, inviting him. When he pushed inside her for the first time in a long time, Harper knew he was real. He was real and he was here and this was happening, like it'd happened so many times before, but it was different, special, because despite their game of pretend it was the last time. As far as they knew, it was the last time.

So they were careful, so very careful, working around each other's bodies with precision, making each and every touch last. They wanted to be remembered. They wanted to imprint themselves on each other with hands and lips and fingers and skin and touch. Even when it started coming to an end, they went slow, taking their time with each other. At Conrad's final thrust, he collapsed on top of her and she clutched him as close as possible. She wouldn't let go, and he wouldn't move, and their bodies would be joined like this forever. And then maybe if they did move, it would be to go back to school. They'd graduate together and get jobs together but in different departments because they'd nag each other too much if they were always side by side. When work was done they'd come home to their perfect house on the beach; they'd be met with three wagging tails and four rosy cheeks. And even after those cheeks left on their own adventures with the dogs who were no longer puppies in tow, even after their hair had grown gray with time, Harper and Conrad would sit in the shade on their porch, each leaning against a pillar and looking not quite at each other but not quite at the sunset, holding hands and knowing that this was it. They would never feel more complete, and that was okay. They'd found their meaning in each other.

They fell into a dreamless sleep, but this dream was in the back of their minds. They could taste it on their tongues, mixed in with the salt of the other's tears.

As they slept, a dark figure stole into their room.

* * *

A/N: Duh duh duh! This chapter was initially planned out to be longer, but obviously I wrote the beginning and the end first and then filled in the middle. I think it's kind of obvious that I started losing steam there in. However, the Fish tells me that readers should be glad of it because it means the initial plans for the short next chapter have now been enlarged. Because trust me, I had at least another five pages planned out for this one. Want to know what?

-Still at Arcadia's party, Agate, Avarick, and Chauncey haul Cerulean and Orpheus up to the twins' room just as all hell breaks out. There's a surprise attack, but from who. The barrier leaves Harper and Conrad defenseless, and all their spells bounce back at them. However, spells can enter no problem.

-Aunt Shailly uses a surprising amount of insight to remind Casey what exactly it was that killed his father.

-The ever absent Prue makes a surprise appearance to save her new protégé, along with Elanore and Frank.

-In the aftermath of the party's destruction, Noah's whereabouts have been revealed. He returns gravely injured?!

-Elanore forces Joshua to watch her slaughter a whole bunch of people, with some comic relief from Warren and Salem.

-The beginning of the end.

There's only five chapters left, so I hope you're all enjoying it!

Want to see some Giddy Brew (and all its spin offs?) fanart?

.com ----My best friend's beautiful beautiful Giddy Brew art can be found in her gallery. Go look and adore.

.com ----my own less appealing art, but you know, at least the characters are accurate looking.

(if you search Giddy Brew on deviantart you can also find a few other pictures from an old Gaia Online contest my best friend conducted three or four years ago.)


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